


So Here We Are

by 30shayds



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Family Business Rich Zayn, Fluff, Football Coach Niall, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Noble Family Rich Harry, Same age in real life, Smut, Surfer/Bartender Louis, Uni Student Liam, lilo, past ziam, philippines, zarry - Freeform, ziall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30shayds/pseuds/30shayds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five lives crash into each other in a strange country.</p><p>---</p><p>ON HIATUS. SORRY! I just can't seem to work it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

A little girl was shrieking outside of his window, and it jolted him to consciousness. He felt sweat dripping down his chest, dampening the sheets of his sort-of bed (really, it was just a mattress on the floor pushed against the wall of that really small room). Then the unmistakable sound of a hoard of children gathered outside the house became obvious. He groaned.

He grabbed his mobile that lay precariously at the edge of his bed (mattress). It was six o'clock. It was a Saturday. And like every Saturday morning, he wondered to himself why he thought it was a good idea to voluntarily throw himself out of England and into a God-forsaken dump in the middle of a city made even worse by the sweltering conditions of this tropical country. He could've chosen to do his goodwill somewhere colder, like maybe go back home to Ireland and do something there. But no, he wanted somewhere different, somewhere he was really needed. Well, he got what he wanted, then.

He had been living in the slums of Payatas for the past six months now. It was one of the worst places in all of Metro Manila. Poverty surrounded him like it was the only thing that ever existed. The first time he got there, the horrible stench that invaded his nose was so overpowering he thought he was going to be sick. But in a week or so of living there, he's gotten so used to it already, sometimes he couldn't even tell anymore if something smelled foul or not. It was really inconvenient, to be honest. He had to keep asking Roy and Naomi to smell him before they all go out to the mall or wherever that's not _there_.

Roy and Naomi are British siblings who had put up a charity that focused on the well-being of the children of Payatas. Roy went there first to do his goodwill, as he's done in other countries before, and found that he didn't want to leave. Roy just fell in love, he said. The country, the people, even the deathly heat. Niall had a hard time believing that because Roy and Naomi have told him some scary shit they went through when they first got there. Naomi even got robbed at a deserted alley one night, with a knife held at her back. But they stayed, didn't they? They've been living there for almost three years now.

Before he ended up there, he'd been working at Roy and Naomi's parents' charity. He came on as volunteer when he transferred to London to live with his Ma and complete his A levels there. When he was done, he decided to take time off school and go somewhere different, far away from what he's always known. And boy was the Philippines  different from what he's always known! He liked it though. He liked what he did there, how he knew he contributed in his small way. He taught the kids football. He's not so bad at football, to be perfectly frank. He trained at the youth program of the Ireland FA. He was on the reserve of the U-14 squad. He might have gone pro too had he not completely messed up his right knee.

He injured the damn thing during a game with his mates at an open park. It was nobody's fault. It was a good tackle, just a bad fall. He tore his ACL and it just wasn't the same from then. He was slower now. Weaker. He went back to training though; he tried. But he just couldn't get his old self back. He still plays, but going pro is not in his list of Things To Do anymore. Coaching kids like what he's doing in Payatas, however, got him thinking that maybe he could have a future at coaching.

"Niall!" he heard a high-pitched, nasally voice call him from the other side of the door. Naomi. "You awake, blondie?" _God... three years here and she's gone and managed to mess up her accent_.

"Yeh! 'M Up."

"Roy's gone ahead to the basketball court. He said to get your bum there."

The basketball court. He lamented not having a proper pitch to teach the kids in. But the nearest pitch is several kilometers away, and they had to rent a jeepney (a local form of transportation, like a minibus of sorts) to transport all the kids there. It's not like they could expect the kids to go there by themselves, being piss poor and all that. And the charity is not exactly rich. It's just getting by. And Roy and Naomi would rather use the money to pay for food and school supplies for the kids.

"Right. I'll be down in a mo," he called. He only heard the sound of her feet pattering away as a response.

Alright, then, he thought as he pulled himself up. Time to be Coach Niall again.

\---

"Here you go," the lady behind the desk said as she handed him his airline tickets, itinerary, brochures and hotel confirmation letters.

"Thanks," he replied cheerfully.

"It's a really good tour, I can promise you that. I've done it myself."

He grinned at her. "A couple of mates said so too, that's why I chose this one."

She nodded with a content smile. "Let me just give you a quick rundown. You'll have a four-hour overlay at Dubai before you get to the Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Manila. From there, you have a connecting flight to San Fernando and then a short bus ride to your resort in La Union. And from there, you will be assisted by Cathz on how to go about the next leg."

"Right," he nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

The lady smiled at him reassuringly. "This is your first time to do this, yeah?"

He did a nervous laugh. "Am I that obvious?"

She chuckled. "A bit."

He couldn't help his cheeks from flushing. "I just told myself I wanted to do something adventurous, you know? People always say I'm so careful. Always on the safe side. I just--well, I just wanted to show them that I can do this."

"And you will, love. Okay, I'm not trying to scare you, but this is standard warning to all tourists. Don't be dumb. You can't trust people all too easily. That's just foolish. The Philippines is a really beautiful country and the people are generally nice, but there are those who will con you. It's not different than it is in here shadier parts of London. 'S not just even the locals, there are foreigners there who look like you and me and would take advantage of tourists. It's really quite disappointing. So be careful, yeah?"

He nodded. "I will." He stuffed the papers in a plastic envelope before slotting it carefully into his messenger bag. He gave her a polite farewell before exiting the traveling agency.

He had just finished his second year at Uni and had been itching to do something for the summer break. Something different. Something he'd never done before. His friends Matt and Aidan, whom he worked with over a project this term for his sound engineering course, had recommended the agency to him. Both guys went on a month-long tour all over the Asia-Pacific last summer and had been raving about it. When he showed interest, they egged him to do it; said that backpacking brought so much adventure, and that he'll meet all sorts of people and try all sorts of food and just bask in the beauty of all those places. He was easily sold.

Matt and Aidan's trip was an intense country-hopping experience that brought them to Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam and the Philippines. He wanted to be adventurous, sure, but not that adventurous when he was going to do this alone. So he asked them to help him pick out one country where he can maybe go around for a couple of weeks or so. And they had made a consensus: the Philippines.

He knew absolutely nothing about the Philippines, except that it's an archipelago and it has a tropical weather. He spent a night googling about it and listing places that piqued his interest, and come dawn he'd already made a decision. The Philippines, it is.

His mobile rang as he walked through the park on the way to his flat just across the university. _"LIAM!"_ his best mate, Andy, screeched. He winced, at the same time pulling the phone away from his ear.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled. "Have you gone mad?" Annoyance in his voice, but nothing poisonous.

_"Come out to the club with me tonight, mate!"_

He sighed. "I'm honestly not--"

_"Yah have to! You're leaving me soon."_

He chuckled. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's just a couple of weeks."

_"But you'll be in another timezone! I'll miss you so much."_

"I invited you to join me. You flat out said no!"

 _"Come now, babe,"_ Andy reasoned. _"Do you honestly believe I would cut it at backpacking and budget travels? My sensitive skin wouldn't be able to take it."_

He laughed openly, earning odd looks from passersby. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

_"I'll be over at your flat by ten."_

"Andy, I didn't say--"

_"'Kay, bye. See yah later!" And the connection was cut._

He sighed. He can never really say no to Andy. 

The sun was setting now, he can see it over the trees. He was feeling both excited and nervous that in three days, he'll be looking at the sunset from a different side of the world.

Well, Liam, he tells himself mentally, looks like you got yourself a bon voyage party, then.

\---

His eyelids were getting heavy and the shapes on the widescreen monitor were blending with the numbers and the letters that were meant to explan them. His vision has turned into a swirl of colors , blurry and undefined. His lids won out and draped over his amber irises. He slouched on his massive cushioned chair and his head dropped. A couple more minutes later a resounding snore filled the entire conference room, halting the man at the end of the room from continuing with his report.

He felt a strong back hand slap against his chest, over the jacket of his expensive suit. When he opened his eyes, he was met with everyone's gazes. He straightened himself and cleared his throat. He waved to the man to proceed, and it was enough for everyone's attention to veer away from him. He exhaled quietly, turning to his right, where his father was giving him a meaningful look and trying not to burst out laughing at the same time. He mouthed a Sorry, to which he got a single nod in return.

When the meeting was over, his father only needed to look at him for him to know that he was wanted in his father's office. He left the conference room while executives made last minute discussions with his father and amongst themselves before truly adjourning. When he got to the office, he went straight to the small patch of fake grass that was there for practice putting. He grabbed the golf club resting against the wall and settled himself on the turf, remembering the rght posture to execute this correctly.

The golf ball didn't even come close to the hole. He wasn't disappointed. He didn't really care. Golf was not his sport. No matter how much his father brought him out to play golf together, it will never be his sport. It's so precise, and he never is. He's just all over the place. All the time. It's not that he's a rebel or what-not, he's just really not good at stuff that's all too serious and defined. That's why he knew that even though he was the only son, he will not be the one who would take over the family conglomerate.

"Still shit at it, I see." He turned to where the deep voice had come from, and was met with the smiling face of his father.

He grinned at the old man before replacing the golf club to where he had found it. When he turned, his face was apologetic.  "Dad, I'm sorry. I just... I couldn't help it. I'm so tired, and it was so..."

"Boring. It's okay to say it, son. It really was boring." They both chuckled. 

He sat at the leather couch while his father went to the minibar and poured himself some scotch. He eyed his father half-hoping that the old man would offer him some. His father didn't. "I'm not offering you any," his father began like he had said his thoughts out loud, "because I want to pretend that my young boy is still a young boy."

He rolled his eyes as a smirk formed on his lips. "I'm twenty and it's perfectly legal here for me to drink."

"I know, I know. But if we were in America, it's not."

"But we're in the Philippines, so it is."

"Just let your old man pretend, alright?"

He raised his hands in defeat.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for India and your sister will be flying off to Bacolod next week to jumpstart operations at the new office there. Can you handle things here? Because you know we need you to." The tone of the conversation had gone serious, fast. Suddenly, it was all business again.

He nodded. Because no matter how imperfect he was when it comes to all this, he was dependent enough when they needed him to be.

Before his father could say another word, the door pushed wide open and his sister walked in sporting a stern expression on her face. "You embarrassing little shit," she spat at him. "That was so rude, what you did back there!"

"Chill. I said I was sorry," he said, nonchalant.

"Doniya, sweetheart. He didn't mean to be rude, did you, Zayn?"

He made to look his most pathetic, with his lower lip sticking out, and shook his head--first at his father and then at his sister.

Doniya's eyes widened, at Zayn first then at their father. "See, this is why he's like this. Because of you." There was no real sting in her words. Doniya had always been feisty and straightforward. But for all the bitch that she is, she is nothing but a loving big sister to Zayn and their two younger sisters, and a loving daughter to their parents.

Zayn and his father only snickered.

"Did you tell him?" she asked their father, who nodded in reply.

"Can you handle it?" she asked Zayn.

He shrugged. "Sure. I've taken over before. It's not a big deal."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Yeah, taken over for like a day. Three days, tops."

His eyebrows furrowed. "How long will you be gone? Like, a week? I can... I'm pretty sure I can handle that."

"Try three."

"Three weeks?" Zayn was up on his feet now. This was unheard of. Doniya had always been the one in charge of their Taguig office. Zayn was only there to learn. "But... you're never gone that long. And if you are, dad's here. I'm not... You can't just leave operations here..."

"Zayn." Doniya's facial expression was softer now. "It's okay. You'll be fine. We've settled quite nicely now. Things are smooth flowing. I don't think there'll be a problem within those three weeks. There's just that charity event I need you to attend. And then it's all good."

He frowned. "See, I'm not cut out for that. What charity event is this?"

"I already told you about this the other night! You never listen to me." She huffed in annoyance, but proceeded to remind him anyway. "It's for the company's goodwill contribution. We're sponsoring a youth football team."

His face, then, was painted with realization. Either way, that was not really his concern at the moment. He turned to his father. "Why can't you stay?"

"There's a problem brewing at the Mumbai office and I need to do damage control before the situation escalates." His father shook his head before he could even say anything back. "Your mother can't leave London, you know that."

Doniya sighed, exasperated. "Christ, Zayn. Relax, will you? We're running a customer service business, not a nuclear power plant. I'll brief you with everything you need to know. You'll be fine."

Zayn fell back onto the couch feeling a bit winded. He wasn't a big fan of being in the building, that's why he didn't have his own office. He'd rather work--if needed--in the solitude of his condo unit, which was really just across the street from where they are now. With Doniya gone for three weeks, he definitely has to come in everyday.

"Ugh," he sounded off, tilting his head back over the couch, covering an arm over his eyes. "I'm going to be smothered with people calling me _Sir Zayn_ again." Which, really, to him is just the worst.

\---

To his right, several feet away, a tanned man with wavy hair up to his shoulder winked at him. To his left, several feet away, a slightly tanned small woman with her straight hair braided back stuck her tongue out at him. In front of him was the ocean, dark blue under the cloudy sky and angry against the howling wind. He smirked. He's been waiting for this the whole year. Finally.

"Fall back a little," the man called to him. He nodded. 

He turned to the woman. "Don't drown!" she shouted over the wind. He laughed and gave her a thumbs up.

And then the man was off to the water, running. As soon as the man was on the board, he saw in his peripheral that the woman had already started moving to the water. He clutched at his own board, feeling his feet itch against the sand, begging to be rushed into the waves. When he saw the woman paddling, he jumped and charged into the great wetness waiting to engulf him--possibly wanting to claim his life.

The waves were stronger than he was used to. His eyes already stung from the salty liquid that had been splashing on his face since he started to paddle. His arms already aching from the force he had to exert to make sure he was steady and moving farther out into the ocean. And then, there it was--the great wall of water towering over him. 

This is it. This is it. This is it. He can hear his heart pounding in his ears, louder than the roaring of the waves. He stood up and steered the board with his feet. And then water splattered straight into his eyes and he couldn't help but close them to blink the sting away. Shit. But it was only a second of blindness. When he opened his eyes, he was inside the watery tunnel. He was riding that goddamn wave!

"Woohoooooooo!!!" he howled against the wall of water surrounding him, laughing right after.

He fell off his board when the wave had died. He swam a little bit towards shore before bringing his head up for air. The man and the woman were already on their flaoting boards, waiting for him.

"That was fucking awesome!" he exclaimed as he climbed on his board.

The man and the woman laughed.

"Worth the wait, right?" the man asked.

"Hell, yeah!"

"Wanna go again?" the woman asked.

"Fucking hell yeah!"

They went again. And again. And a last time, because the sun was already getting too high and the waves were getting too low. And they all had to go to their own jobs. He watched the man and the woman exchange a loving kiss before going their separate ways.

"See yah later, man," called the man to him.

"See yah, Luke," he returned.

"Come on, pretty boy," the woman called to him. He went and walked next to her as they climbed up the beach. "You did really well out there."

He grinned. "Thanks to you guys."

"Hey," she said, looking at him. Her face was stern, serious like she means business. He knew that he ought to be intent in hearing what she had to say. "Don't go out riding that without me or Luke around, you hear?"

A corner of his lips curved up. "I won't, Cathz." She nodded and they didn't utter a word to each other again until they reached the resort.

Cathz was his boss. She was his friend too. But since he's working as a surfing instructor/bartender at her resort, she was his boss. He landed on that beautiful beach some two years ago by accident. He was backpacking all over Southeast Asia with his girlfriend at the time and was supposed to go to Sagada during their stop in the Philippines, but they rode the wrong bus and they ended up in La Union instead. 

They found the resort and decided to spend the night because they were far too tired from the bus ride as it were. He woke up really early the next day and decided to take a walk along the beach while his girlfriend was still deep in slumber. He spied Luke on the shoreline, his surf board under his arm, staring at the waves. His curiousity dragged him towards the pensive man.

He asked Luke, "are you not going in?"

Luke turned to him, surprised at the interrupting voice. Luke's face was calm and exuded warmth. "'Course I will. I'm just waiting for the right wave," Luke said before returning his gaze to the ocean.

He frowned, but he looked into the ocean, nonetheless. "How would you know it's the right one?"

"Oh, you just do. When you see it. You know it's the right one. Like that."

He didn't even have time to react because Luke had already rushed off into the water to catch his right wave. He watched the man ride the wave, fluidly and with grace. It was then that he first knew that he wanted to surf.

But when his girlfriend woke up that day, they left the resort and followed their itinerary. When the tour was over and he had gone back to London, he felt an emptiness in him that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He woke up one morning to the sound of rain spattering wildly against the window of his small flat. And he knew. He remembered. He wanted to surf.

It seemed logical to him to go back to where he first thought about it. So, just a month after he'd gotten home, he found himself on an airplane back to the Philippines, back to La Union. And he learned to surf. When he had learned to surf, logic dictated that he should go back home. But he didn't. Couldn't. So he stayed.

"Louis, I've got a box of strawberries coming in at eleven. Sign it for me, okay?" Cathz told him as she was heading out. He nodded.

"Oh, and we're expecting a family of six to come in today. They're from the agency in London, so I want you to welcome them." He nodded.

"Oh, and--" 

He chuckled. "Do you want me to get pen and paper so I could write this all down?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I was gonna say to put a shirt on because you're distracting the workers in my resort, men and women alike."

Louis blushed. He's always stood out, being British among a sea of Filipinos and all that, but he never really got used to all the teasing he got from Cathz, or the glint in the eyes of the female guests when they see him, or the blatant stares from male patrons (some of whom had been coming back way too frequently that Cathz really couldn't complain because business had been great).

When Cathz left, he did a quick scan of the resort. He liked days like these when Cathz would leave and was so comfortable and open of her trust in him to run the resort. He loved the place like it was his own. And he loved Cathz and Luke like they were family.

"Louis, old boy," he mumbled to himself pleasantly. "Looks like you're in charge again."

\---

"Harold!" his mother screamed after him as he left the room. He was sick of it all. The constant nagging, the pretentiousness of this family. He just wanted to get away. But he was too comfortable to really leave, so he'd just go and spend his nights partying instead.

He's recently just turned nineteen, but he's been around the London party scene since he was sixteen. He's been in every swanky club in London at least once. Even when he was still underage, club owners invited him to their club openings and events because he was a star. He, who didn't really do anything but be himself, attracted all sorts of people. He'd actually make an excellent Marketing and PR guy because he just knew how to pull people in.

This kind of talent he could have put into better use, but he didn't. Well, he didn't have to because his family is filthy rich, loaded beyond imagination. He was of noble birth too, his father being a Baron and all. 

His parents are already divorced, and he lives with his mother and stepfather now, but he's always had constant communication with his father. He likes his father because of how laid back his old man is, a stark contrast to his mother who was always so uptight. He figured that's why they had divorced, but his father never said a negative thing about his mother (and really, vice versa, and he thought it was cool of his parents to be like that in front of him and his older sister). There had been so many nights he wished that he had stayed with his father instead, but his mother wouldn't leave him with his old man (something about him being a minor so she has claim over custody of him).

In any case, living with his mother annoyed the living hell out of him. But he was not one to disrespect her by screaming at her. But he was one to walk away while she was in the middle of her litany on how he should do something with his life and how he should uphold his father's noble name.

It's not that he's ruining his father's noble name. Not at all. He just likes to drink and to party and sex every living thing he finds attractive. But he's never been caught stumbling out of a club piss drunk and out of control. And he's never been caught smoking pot or sniffing crack at a party. And he's never been caught fucking a girl (or a bloke) in public places. No, never those things, because for all that he is, he was always careful. And that's why his father had never cut him off or pressured him to be a model citizen as society (and his mother) would dictate.

When he made it out of the front doors of his stepfather's mansion he'd lived in since he was fourteen until he was finally of age to live on his own, he was greeted by his personal driver and was asked where they were off to. "Home," he declared, because this was never really his home. He's never had a home until his own flat.

Once inside the car, he pulled out his Blackberry and shot a message to the one he'd been missing the most.

To xoxo: You up?

From xoxo: Hey Harry. How ya been?

To xoxo: Fought with mum again

From xoxo: Hahaha i told you stop pissing her off

To xoxo: >:| Why are you always on her side?

From xoxo: im not ! 

To xoxo: i miss you

From xoxo: miss you too babe

To xoxo: come home

From xoxo: i can't, ya know that

To xoxo: then i'll come to you

From xoxo: hahahaha you won't survive this place babe

He frowned.

To xoxo: you just don't want me there

From xoxo: because you'll ruin your skin and your beautiful bouncy curls. it's way too hot here

To xoxo: i don't care

From xoxo: what will you do here?

To xoxo: same as i'm doing here, and more because i'll be with you.

From xoxo: hahahaha are you drunk already?

To xoxo: i'll check out some flights when i get home

From xoxo: hahahaha ok babe whatever ya say.

From xoxo: i have to go ok. i'll talk to you later. go an party. you're just upset that's why your thinking all that nonsense.

To xoxo: Skype me later?

From xoxo: sure love xx

He didn't bother replying because he knew he wouldn't get a reply back too. He slid the Blackberry back into his pocket. He doesn't use it other than for the BBM.

Note to self, Harry, he thought. Check available flights to the Philippines when you get home.


	2. 1. Niall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story will be told in the flow following the intro chapter. So, that means Niall's POV goes first, then Liam's, and so on. I just want to clarify this in case someone snaps at me about the relationship tag being LiLo first and it happening a little bit later. The tags are like that because Lilo is already a sure thing here, while the others aren't yet.
> 
> Also, this is un-beta'd. I would like to have a beta to help me, if anyone is interested and has the time. x

The music of The Rollingstones was bouncing off the small room through an iPod connected to a couple of decent but small speakers. It was almost noon on a July day and it was uncharacteristically hot. It should be rainy season now, but no rain had yet to fall. A lone electric fan was on max, steadily trained towards the mattress on the corner. Outside, scattered voices can be heard. Downstairs, the loud noises of children doing activity work.

Niall was lying on the bed with only a pair of loose basketball shorts on. His chest was shiny from sweat, a mobile headset jabbed into both his earlobes. He was palming himself through his shorts, giving slight relief to his hard on, breathing already ragged. A minute later, he whined and pulled his shorts down to his thighs and grabbed his cock, stroking himself more intently. "Christ, Harry," he muttered, before bringing his hand to his mouth and licking the palm a couple of times. He brought his spit-slicked hand back to his cock and gripped himself tighter. He slid his hand up and down the length with more determination. "Yeh," he groaned breathily, flicking his wrist as he did. "Harry, I'm gonna--" he managed to say before a long, drawn-out moan escaped his lips and he's spilling white over his stomach.

Niall lay unmoving for a minute, listening to the furious and unsuppressed sounds coming out of Harry's mouth on the other end of the line as the other boy was riding out his own orgasm. A fond smile was lazily forming on Niall's lips.

"Hey, how about you put in some U2 next time? Give ode to an Irish rock band,why don't you," Harry said when he had come down from his high.

Niall laughed. "Yeh, alright." He heard a faint hum from Harry, to which Niall countered with, "Thanks, Haz."

He can almost hear Harry scowling through his earphones. "Fuck, Niall," Harry said, grave and cold. "Stop thanking me every time we have phone sex like you owe me anything. It's not like I hate doing this, you know."

Niall chuckled softly. "No, I know. It's just... I know this is such a bother to ya. Doing stuff like this at weird hours of the day and what-not. What time's it there, like, 5 A.M.?"

"It's not a bother," Harry retorted in a petulant manner. "I'd be more offended if you wake up someone else in all of Europe at this ungodly hour just so you could get off."

Niall's laughter was loud, but it may still have been drowned by Mick Jagger's voice. "It's just you, I promise. In all of Europe."

He was sure Harry was grinning when he said, "good."

They both quieted down as the lazy harmonica of Sweet Virginia came on. But before they even got to the chorus, Harry already sighed and said, "I might fall asleep, babe."

When Niall BBM'ed Harry earlier, he figured the younger boy was just getting back from some party. Harry usually was. But Niall was just so incredibly hot and horny that he didn't even bother being considerate. He just really needed to relieve himself.

He had realized halfway through his stay in the Philippines that wanking was so much more satisfying with Harry talking him through it, with his deep voice explicitly describing what he would do to Niall if he was physically there. Occasionally, porn helped, but he'd often spend more time looking for quality porn than actually masturbating over them (he doesn't know at what point and how he became so critical about porn because it's not like the damn thing is an art form--it's fucking porn). 

And, of course, there's that option where he can just pull someone for a shag. It won't be hard. He knows he's fit. And not to be high-and-mighty or anything, but the mere fact that he's white as a snowflake already gets most people sold. No, it's not that difficult to have casual sex with someone. It's just that he doesn't get attracted to people easily. 

For the past six months he's been living in the country, he's only had sex with two people. One was with a boy while Niall was on a weekend holiday with Roy and a couple of his friends from University. That was just a one-time thing because Niall and his group had to return to the city on the Monday after said weekend. The other, a Filipina college student he met when she came to Payatas as part of a medical mission. They got together to fuck a grand total of three times in the course of two months. But then it got too tedious because he was living all the way up north and the girl was living all the way down south. And between the horrid traffic and the cost of getting a room for a couple of hours (she didn't want to do it in the drop-in center/house where Niall lived), he wasn't sure it was all worth it. He didn't even _like_ her that much to go into so much effort; so that didn't really go anywhere.

Harry was a constant, though. They were best mates. They love each other. But, no, they are not together. They just do stuff together. It's weird how they became friends at all. They were so completely different, and had come from completely different backgrounds. Harry's nobility for chrissake; whereas, he's just a kid from this small town in the middle of Ireland who came to London smelling like cow poo.

They found each other when they were both just 17 (Niall was five months older) and Niall was standing at a sidewalk wearing huge signboards on his front and his back, giving out flyers to people walking by, and promoting a newly-opened deli. Harry was exiting his black shiny car on the curb and was headed into the men's clothing shop where Niall had decided to park himself in front of. Niall was in a good mood that day (like most days, really) and Harry was in his foulest (like most days, really).

Niall had jumped in front of Harry with this ridiculous grin on his face, shouting, "Earl's Delicatessen is now open to serve you, man with luscious curls! We pack the best meat on this side of the country and give the best service. Ain't tha noble? Why, yes, it is. Because he's an Earl! Earl's Delicatessen!" And then, proceeded to shove a flyer in Harry's hand.

Niall had turned away completely after that to harass another passerby with his bright and obnoxiously happy self, so he didn't really see Harry smirk before going into the store. The next day, when Niall was off the streets and was on counter duty at the deli instead, Harry came in to buy a sandwich. And, that was that, really. It all snowballed from there; and they became this unit that in all respects should not even fit, but they perfectly do.

"Yeh, yeh. Put the phone down and sleep properly," Niall lulled.

"'M sorry, Nialler," Harry said, sounding like he's already beginning to drift off into a dream.

"Ssshh. Sleep, babe."

He heard Harry hum before the line had finally disconnected. He pulled the pieces from his ears and just stared at the ceiling, drinking in the words floating in the air.

>   
>  But come on come on down sweet Virginia   
>  Come on honey child I beg of you   
>  Come on come on down you got it in you   
>  Got to scrape that shit right off your shoes  
> 

\---

"It's quite formal," Naomi said from across the table. She folded the invitation closed before pushing it towards Niall. All three of them sat on the round dining table, with Naomi sorting out utility bills, Roy researching for a class paper, and Niall looking through paperwork for an upcoming local youth football competition.

"Cocktail dress for women, suit for men," Niall read aloud. He frowned. "Do I 'ave to be 'ere?"

"Yes," Roy and Naomi responded in chorus, not bothering to look at him.

"Why?" he whined.

"The Aranetas specifically asked for you," Roy said casually.

The Aranetas are this extremely wealthy Filipino clan who owns large tracts of farmlands in provinces. They are some of the most powerful people in the country. Quite frankly, they are some of the nicest too. Two Araneta brothers are huge fans of football and have been investing in the promotion of the sport in the Philippines. They work closely with Roy and Naomi's charity when it comes to training the kids. This is why the kids Niall's coaching have proper kits and proper boots and proper balls, etc.

Niall huffed. That was really the end of that conversation. He was going. He couldn't say no to them after how they have been so good to the kids, and to him when he first got there. "I don't have proper clothes, though." Of course, he didn't. He landed on this giant oven of heat carrying one backpack filled with tanks and shorts, and just a couple of pants and shirts. He never imagined he'd be attending some formal charity event in a posh hotel.

Roy waved a hand at him. "We'll borrow. 'S not a problem."

It wasn't a problem indeed. And no, they didn't borrow any clothes from anyone because the Aranetas had sent them out on a shopping spree to look fit for the charity event. Niall felt like Cinderella with all the dress shirts and slacks and leather shoes waved at his face to be tried on. He and Roy even had a stupid walk-off/pose-off every time they tried on some outfits. It was fun, actually.

That night, after they went back to their home in the slums with bags of branded clothing, he was sat on his mattress, leant against the wall, legs stretched, feet covered by a shiny pair of Paul Smith leather shoes. He's never had anything so ridiculously expensive wrapped around his feet. 

He thought of Harry. How Harry's always had some nice shiny shoes on when he would come over Niall's small flat in London to spend the night. Harry's leather shoes always looked so good on him, Niall thought. The leather shoes alone weren't particularly of interest to Niall. It's the fact that Harry wears them so perfectly that made Niall notice.

He looked at the shoes on his feet again and suddenly it just seemed so out of place--in the house, on him. Niall shrugged, they were still damn good shoes even though it didn't look right on him.

\---

"You look absolutely dashing!"

Niall laughed. "Yeh?"

"Have you looked in the mirror at all? Where's my Nialler? And who's this model standing in front of me?"

"Thanks, buddy," Niall said through a widely stretched grin that showed all his teeth.

Harry winked at him through the laptop monitor Niall had placed atop a stack of books on the dining table. He had told Harry about the charity event and the younger boy was just beaming at the idea of Niall cleaning up like he had now. Harry insisted that they Skype on the night of the party before they leave so he could have a good look at Niall. He's never seen Niall in formal wear before because Nall had never gone to anything formal (he didn't attend his own prom).

"Hi, Harry," Naomi greeted as soon as she'd landed on the bottom of the stairs. She walked to the dining area to wave at Harry through the laptop's camera.

"Wow," Harry gasped. "You, uh. Wow."

Naomi giggled. "Is that a good thing?"

Harry nodded, eyes still wide at the sight of the girl. "You look really hot."

"Right?" Niall supplanted. "It's like a whole new person, this one is. If I didn't know any better, I might just hit on her at the party."

Naomi snorted when she laughed, which kind of ruined the whole sexy vixen she had going on; and she realized this, as she was quick to cover her mouth. Harry and Niall threw their heads back laughing while Naomi burned red against her pale skin.

"Car's on the way," Roy said, joining the gathering in the dining room, linking his cuffs. "Harrehhh," he drawled out like a drunkard pimp who deals crack.

"Hello, Roy," Harry greeted diplomatically, lips only slightly curve up.

"Aww, don't be like that, babe. Haven't seen each other in awhile. Don't you miss me at all?" Roy's tone was teasing.

Harry didn't flinch. "You look really nice," he said with a nod.

"Oh, thanks. Me and Niall bought it together. We had to try on, like, 20 clothes before we found what we wanted. Man, that was a long time in the dressing rooms putting on clothes then taking 'em off and then putting on new ones and then taking 'em off. We were naked a lot."

And that was it. A cloud descended upon Harry and he was shooting daggers at Roy through the screen of the laptop.

All the while, Naomi and Niall were trying so hard not to laugh as they watched Roy try to make Harry jealous, like he always did since the first time Niall introduced them all to each other. Roy had easily caught wind at how possessive Harry was when it comes to Niall and he found it so amusing that he just couldn't help teasing Harry.

Roy ignored the glare from the curly-haired boy. If anything, this made him want to push further. He grabbed Niall by the waist and positioned the blonde's back against his chest, arms snaking forward so that his hands were on Niall's torso. "A nice, crisp shirt looks really good on Niall, don't you think so, Harold?"

Niall was shaking his head and rolling his eyes while Roy was touching him. Roy was straight as a ruler, and he's told Harry this a million times every time Harry insisted that Roy wanted to fuck him, but the younger boy still never listened. Niall saw that Harry's eyebrows furrowed tighter now, lips pressed into a hard line. That was the tipping point, he knew. "Okay, enough," he told Roy. When Roy didn't let go immediately, Niall snapped free from Roy, pushing him playfully away. "Get off me, mate," he said in between ragged laughter.

Roy burst out laughing, clapping at Niall's back. He bent forward and closer to Harry. "I was just taking the piss, mate. Come on."

Harry didn't say anything, or change his face.

"Oh Roy, you've gone and made him genuinely upset now," Naomi reprimanded.

"Nah. We cool, right?" But Roy's tone didn't sound so sure anymore.

Harry still just stared at the screen, unspeaking. He did give Roy a reprieve from feeling guilty soon enough by nodding. Roy's mobile rang then and he had to walk over to it where it was charging in the living room. Niall and Naomi exchanged a look before the girl left him and Harry alone.

Niall sat on a chair and sighed. "He's just joking, Harry."

"I don't like it," he mumbled.

"Don't be a brat," Niall said, but it sounded more like he was pleading.

"You like him, don't you?"

"He's a good mate, Harry. Not like I wanna fuck him or any of that."

"No, yeah, I know. But you like him."

"I like a whole lot of people. What's that got to do with anything?"

"H--he's like your best mate there, isn't he?"

Ah. Finally, Niall understood. "You'll always be number one. Always. You know that, right?"

Harry dipped his head and barely nodded, but enough that the crop of hair on his head shook a bit.

"Hey, babe," Niall said in a cheery tone. "Pulled anyone hot last night while you were out?"

Harry's smirk resurfaced as he looked back up at Niall. "When'd I ever not?"

Niall chuckled. "O Yeh? Caught a bird this time, then?"

He nodded. "She had massive tits, Niall. I'm all, 'those can't be real' but they were so soft, they couldn't not be real!"

Niall cackled. "Was she any good?"

"She was alright. I got dizzy watching her tits bounce while she was riding me."

By the time Naomi had called on Niall because their ride had already arrived to pick them up, Harry was laughing again. They made quick goodbyes to each other (even Roy got a friendly 'have fun' from Harry) before the three were bolting out of the house and into a shiny black SUV.

\---

The 7-star hotel where the event was taking place was smacked in the middle of Metro Manila's primary business district. Niall had never been inside such a pompous hotel in his entire existence. There were four chandeliers hovering what seemed like a hundred feet above him in the lobby. The air was cool and smelled of flowers. The furniture looked expensive. The floor was a shining marble. It was like a whole different world in there.

Niall had Naomi's hand hooked on his folded arm while Roy directed them to the ballroom where the event was being held. At the registration table outside, they were intercepted by one of the Araneta brothers (for all intents and purposes, we shall refer to him as "Araneta Brother No. 1")  and had to have small talk with him. Niall didn't really mind, even though his brain was screaming at him to run to the buffet table already. But then it dragged on for thirty minutes because important people kept interrupting and introductions had to be made constantly. And each new person who got thrown into the huddle was a cause for new topics of discussion.

"So the kids won third in the last tourney? That's great!" 

"Heard from Dan that you're trying out to be a goalkeeper in his second division team, Roy. Why not just go for a first division team?"

"Oh darling girl, I would insist that you meet my nephew. I'm sure you'd get along with him quite lovely."

"I've been to Dublin a couple of times. Saw a friendly at Croke Park between Ireland and France. That is one massive stadium! Oh, and France kind of kicked your ass on that match, mate. Sorry."

"Are you planning on staying here for good, Niall?"

After scores of topics have been covered, Araneta Brother No. 1 finally realized that the three of them have not had a chance to eat yet and the program or ceremonies or whatever it's called will be starting in less than an hour. It was then that the man pushed them three into the ballroom, calling on one of the usherettes to escort them to their table.

Niall's breath hitched when the heavy doors swung open because goddamn it--he really was _fucking_ Cinderella making a grand entrance at the ball. Roy and Naomi was in front of him when they stepped inside. People instinctively turned to look at them as they entered. He figured that it was not so much because they were a vision of beauty or anything like that, it's just that the guests who were scattered about the room were distracted (and quite possibly curious) as to who had just arrived.

The usherette led them to a table that was pretty close to the stage, although not exactly first row. This wasn't a surprise because they already knew that Roy and Naomi will be invited onto the stage for some kind of ceremonial gesture, where a couple of sponsors will be handing them a giant check for a photo opportunity. To show that the company has a sense of corporate social responsibility. That they're a bunch of good guys.

Niall is not one to sneer at people who help people who needs help--even if sometimes he can smell the bullshit a hundred kilometers away. He's a Mr. glass-half-full; a look-at-the-bright-side kind of guy. Help is help even if it was done with an ulterior motive and not strictly out of the goodness of one's heart. He believes that when people make an effort, despite it being superficial, they should be rewarded with a smile and a thank you. If nothing else, it's the polite thing to do.

They head on to the buffet table as soon as the usherette left them. In a way, Niall was glad that they got there a little bit late. Since most people have already gotten their food, there was no queue at every station. His eyes zoomed in to a full pig laying on its belly on the table. It's honey roasted skin glistened underneath the lights on top of it.

"It's called _lechon_ , mate." It was Roy. He was standing beside Niall with a plate filled with all sorts of food that practically merged into its own dish. "They slow roast the whole thing on top of burning charcoal. I heard it takes hours to cook. And fucking exhausting too because it's done manually.

Niall's eyes furrowed. "What do ye mean? like people spin it around?

Roy nodded. "Extremely slowly to make sure that it's evenly cooked. It takes hours."

Niall could only nod at this new information. And then both boys were already walking towards the roasted pig.

\---

He was halfway through his second plate of food when the heavy doors started to push open. Everyone, including him, made to turn to the door. _So, it really was distracting, after all._  An usherette came into view (Niall figured she was one because she was wearing the same thing their usherette earlier wore). The woman stepped aside and waved her hand, sort of signaling to the person behind her, _this way please_.

A young man, not a lot older than Niall was, stepped inside. He was wearing a black suit, with a thin black tie over his white dress shirt. With the jacket, unbuttoned, his hands were lazily tucked in his front pockets. His pitch black hair was styled up into a quiff. His plump lips curled up into a polite smile at the lady, and then at a few people who greeted him with a respectful nod. _He must be someone important._  

Niall stabbed a piece of food from his plate without tearing his gaze from the guy who'd just arrived. As he brought the utensil to his mouth, Araneta Brother No. 1 was already in front of the young man, shaking his hand while steadying another hand on his shoulder. The young man returned the gesture, a wider smile forming on his lips.

Damn, Niall thought, as he chewed absently on his food. The guy was... Well, beautiful, to say the least--with the way his eyes crinkled when he was grinning and his already prominent cheekbones getting sharper as his face stretched.

Niall watched the guy quietly as a couple more people came to welcome him, including Araneta Brother No. 2, who Niall was seeing for the first time tonight. They moved on to their designated table somewhere in the corner, on the front row. The guy was then handed a bottle of beer by a waiter, before resuming conversation with the Araneta Brothers.

"Well, well, well. Looks like someone's caught the eye of little Nialler here."

Niall turned to see the teasing smirk of Roy, who was separated from him on the table by Naomi. Niall laughed. "Just got distracted, is all. Looks like a big deal, 'in he?"

Roy and Naomi made a quick glance at the young man across the room, who was now halfway into his bottle of beer, before nodding affirmatively at Niall.

"His family owns the company who's just agreed to sponsor the Araneta's football foundation, including us," Naomi explained.

"I was really hoping his sister would have been the one to come today. Buddy, I tell you, that girl is such a babe. You'd get hard in an instant if she just so much as looked your way," Roy exclaimed, earning a frown and a slap on the back of his head from Naomi.

"Crude git," she mumbled.

Niall laughed as the siblings bickered next to him. He turned his attention back to the young man across the room, with Roy's words floating in his head. If the sister was the female version of this guy, then Roy was probably right.

He was lost in his own thoughts as he continued to stare at the young man, who was now holding a glass of some dark liquid with ice, which Niall was certain was not cola, when the man unceremoniously turned to his direction. Dark eyes trained on his blue ones, as he witnessed this ridiculously gorgeous stranger shot him the slightest smirk. 

And, well, _fuck_. Something was already stirring in his pants.


	3. 2. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm weird. I'm sorry.

It wasn't as though Liam doesn't know how to have fun. He does. It's just that he was really tired and he's still got some packing to do before he goes meandering off into a foreign country and would just really like to go home now. So, while his best mate Andy was getting absolutely wasted and dancing with every random person he could find, Liam was just there at the bar sipping his jack and coke, which is his first (and most likely last) alcoholic beverage of the night, until he can slip out unnoticed by a hammered Andy.

He liked the music that night. They're doing Top 40 tunes and all that. He's not very fond of techno music. There are a few isolated techno songs that he appreciates, but generally he's not a fan of the genre.

He was bobbing his head to a new NeYo song when this guy came crashing on the stool two spaces away from him, a really pretty blonde girl clinging on to his waist. He couldn't help but shift his attention to them. He knew it wasn't polite to stare but, really, it's like they were begging for attention anyway.

The couple was laughing when they first got there, stopping to order drinks from the bartender, and then whispering and then laughing again. Even in the noise of the club, Liam could hear the loud cackle of the young man next to him, rendering it even more animated by his large head tilting back like it's going to fall off.

His smile is lovely though. Really. White teeth, lush lips, and the dimples on his cheeks are absolute killers. He has an air of confidence about him that Liam's only ever really seen on one other person, his ex. Liam can tell this guy was rich, and he looked like he knew that he was gorgeous and was not shy at all about it. Just like his ex.

It's weird that Liam hasn't thought about Zayn for maybe about a year now and suddenly this boy with a crazy head of curls made all memories of Zayn come rushing back. And he didn't really want to think about Zayn right now.

Zayn was Liam's first love--if you could call it that. Because Liam still wonders if it was correct to call it love when they were so young and so dumb to even know what's real. What was real that he was sure of though was how happy he had been with Zayn, how much he had learned from him, and how utterly painful it was when Zayn left him.

Liam's gaze turned to the displayed bottles on the wall behind the bar and downed the contents of the glass. That was a shit idea. The moment he slammed the glass on the counter, he already felt the wooziness hit him and he had to rest both elbows forward on the wood so that he wouldn't topple back and crack his skull.

"Shouldn't have probably drank all that in one go, mate." It was almost like a whisper, with how loud his surroundings were. But Liam didn't miss, not only the low voice of the speaker but also, the warm breath on his ear, not to mention the brush of soft fabric on his elbow.

Liam turned to look at the speaker and was met with a wide, almost comical, grin--white teeth, lush lips and dimpled cheeks. "Hey," the boy greeted happily. "I'm Harry Styles," he said, extending a hand.

Liam looked at the offered hand for a moment before his senses finally told him that it was polite to return the favor, so he shook Harry's hand and gave Harry his name. Suddenly, this new acquaintance was in his personal space, chest pressed against his arm, hand rubbing the back of his neck.  _Um. What?_

"You don't drink too much, do you?" Harry asked in his soothing deep voice.

Liam laughed awkwardly. "You think?"

Harry didn't reply. When Liam snuck a peek, Harry was sporting a smirk on his face. "So, what's happening here? You drinking to forget?"

Liam scoffed. "No." Harry's hand on his nape pressed on the base now, gently loosening the tension on his muscles. It felt really good.

"Well, you're being gloomy, that's for sure. Been sitting here for an hour and all that."

Liam looked at him with an eyebrow high up his forehead. "How would you know?"

Harry leaned in to speak in Liam's ear, "been watching you for that long, babe."

Well, okay. Maybe Liam's gay-dar was not functioning properly tonight because the hand-on-his-nape business should have really given that bit away. But he was still at a loss for words at how brazen this young man is. He can't be any older than Liam. Heck, Liam's almost sure he was younger. And yet, here he was, getting Liam's attention; making Liam blush like a school girl.

Liam's a bit of a square, really. He doesn't do casual, one-night stands, random hook-ups and other temporary sexual what-have-yous. He's not a regular at clubs, and when he does come by, he never really went beyond drunk dancing and a bit of grinding. That's really it. No kissing, no groping, no blowjobs, no handjobs, and definitely no sex. He's just not the type.

But tonight might be different and maybe that spell would be broken because this boy is really hot and he just reminds him so much of--shit, he should really stop thinking about that dark-haired guy with the defined jaw and a really pink-- _Fuck, Liam, just stop._

"What are you thinking?" Harry crooned in Liam's ear ( _and was that his tongue?_ ), his hand traveling to the space between Liam's neck and shoulder, pressing gently the muscle there.

It must be the damn jack and coke that was doing this to him, because Liam shivered at the hot breath Harry was blowing on the side of his face and his trousers were beginning to feel a little bit too tight for comfort. But Liam thinks it must also be the damn jack and coke that made him turn to Harry with a skeptical look about him and say, "I was thinking where your blonde friend from awhile ago could have gone."

Harry's hand on the crook of Liam's neck loosened as the boy threw his head back in jovial laughter. "You mean Taylor? She's out there somewhere." He looked at Liam again with piercing green eyes and a cheeky smile on his face. "She's not a concern." 

Harry's hand slid down Liam's back and hooked at his waist. And Liam realized that Harry was leaning in close to his ear again, a husky tone breathing into his earlobe, "want to get out of here? I'll let you fuck me if you want." That Liam was just frozen there, feeling the grip on his waist and the warm breath tickling his skin, was a testament of just how drunk he was--from alcohol and quite possibly from lust.

"Babe," a voice boomed from somewhere close. Suddenly the hand on Liam's waist was gone, the air around the general area of his face has become a bit cooler. Andy was on his other side, an arm already around his shoulder. "Everything alright here?"

Liam turned to a much more familiar face and smiled lazily. "Yeah, mate. Just having a conversation with Harry here," he said, waving to the person he meant as Harry. When Liam turned to Harry, the boy was smiling innocently. "This is Andy, my--"

"Boyfriend," Andy finished as he reached a hand out to Harry. "Thanks for keeping 'im company, mate."

Harry took the hand diplomatically. "He was getting a bit lonely... mate. So, I thought..."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll take it from here, then."

Harry nodded. He gave one last look at Liam, smiling all the while, before disappearing into the mass of people on the floor.

"You okay?" Andy asked.

Liam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for that. He was just so--"

"Hot. Yeah, I know. And, I'm straight. So, that kind of says a lot, dunnit?" Liam laughed. "Oh shit," Andy rushed to say. "Did you actually wanted to get with him? Cos I mean, I could drag him back here."

Liam bellowed a laughter that released all kinds of tension that was pent up in his entire body. And he thought of how he managed to find a best friend that was part douche bag and part caring. Liam shook his head at Andy, who was now seated on the stool beside him. "No."

Andy shoved him lightly on the shoulder. "Told you to join me on the floor. You're just making yourself bait for vultures, sitting here trying to be broody. And, really, you're just failing at that, mate, 'cos those puppy eyes you got happening there doesn't make you look mysterious. They just make horny people like that Harry person want to corrupt you."

Liam shoved Andy right back, laughing. "Look, man. I'm really tired. Can you just let me go home now?"

Andy sighed exaggeratedly and rolled his eyes. He jumped off the stool and clapped on Liam's back. "Come on, then. I'll put you on a cab."

When they got on the curb outside the club, Andy wrapped his arms around Liam and just held him there for a good three seconds. When he pulled away, his hands were gripping on Liam's shoulders. "How long until I see you again?"

"Three weeks."

Andy nodded. "Right. Well, don't get yourself killed, then."

Liam's face fell. It was bad enough he was doing this alone, he didn't need to be scared shitless with the possibility that he might actually die in a foreign land.

Andy laughed. "It was a joke, you twat. You'll be fine. You can do this, yeah?"

Liam brightened a little at the encouragement. Yeah, he can do this.

\---

The flat was dark and quiet when he got back. He was sharing it with his older sister Ruth, who was taking up her masters. She also worked as a waitress at a 24-hour restaurant four blocks away, so she was rarely there, except to sleep.

Liam threw open his closet and dresser pondering on what to pack. He had borrowed a large backpack (the long one that mountaineers use all the time) from Matt to put all his carry on items for his adventure. Eventually, he decided that pants were not essential, opting for several shorts instead. He had a number of casual shirts and tanks rolled up tightly to create more space in the bag. And about ten pairs of underwear just for good measure.

Halfway through stuffing clothes in the bag, Liam decided that he can finish it up in the morning. His flight wasn't until late in the afternoon, so he still had enough time. When he was already comfortable on his bed, he hoped that sleep would claim him soon. It didn't. 

Instead, the image of Harry materialized in the blank ceiling above him. He felt the strong hand on him earlier, the warm breath on his face, the sound of Harry's deep voice filling his ear. He still wasn't sure if he really did feel Harry's tongue on the shell of his ear, but the idea of it was good enough. Good enough for his cock to come to life in his joggers.

Liam's hand found its way to his crotch, palming himself from the outside of the fabric, applying pressure as it filled up to its full length and girth. _I'll let you fuck me if you want_ , he can hear Harry's voice whisper in his ear again, and he couldn't stifle the moan that escaped his lips.

Liam had not been inside anyone since Zayn. That's almost two years ago. Did we not already establish that Liam's a square? He seriously is. Liam is all sorts of fit, and sometimes he imagined that if maybe he could be attracted to girls too, it would be easier to find someone to love because the options doubled. But he's just not into girls. He appreciates them, sure, but he never really found them sexually appealing.

And, yes, love. Liam loves. He doesn't just fuck. He makes love. Hence, the whole two-year celibacy thing. Liam gets off with the help of his hand. Hands, actually. He's gone and become very good at it, to be honest--masturbating, that is. He could conjure up vivid images of men to help him get off; his imagination going into overdrive while wanking that he could almost feel their touch. And tonight, his hands, and overly wild imagination, would help him again.

Imaginary Harry came into view at the edge of Liam's bed, naked as could be. He was tall and lean and had that sexy smirk plastered on his face as he eyed Liam. His cock was hard, the head leaking precum as it stood against his stomach. Liam lifted his hips and pulled off his pants and sleeping trousers, all the while watching this vision he created in his head watch him.

Harry began to crawl onto the bed as Liam parted his legs. Harry dipped his head and began to plant kisses on the inside of Liam's thigh, his large hands gripping at Liam's bare hips. Liam felt warm breath touch his balls before a sac was engulfed in wetness. Harry sucked at it, hollowing his cheeks as he pulled away, making an obscene sound as it popped out of his mouth. Harry placed the flat of his tongue on the base of Liam's cock and dragged it up the underside until he reached the crown.

Liam let his eyes roll back, his head tilting against the pillow, as he felt the tip of Harry's tongue prod his slit, cleaning off the precum that continued to ooze out. Harry grabbed the shaft of Liam's cock and the next thing he knew, the swollen head was wrapped around a warm wetness. He felt his length going deeper and deeper into Harry's mouth, hitting the back of Harry's throat, until Harry's nose was nuzzled at his pelvis.

Harry sucked hard as he slowly dragged his mouth and tongue up the shaft of Liam's pulsing red cock. He repeated the manoeuvre, causing Liam to groan in a mix of frustration and arousal. "Please... please..." Liam whispered, pleading to the non-existent partner he had on his bed.

Harry began to bob furiously over Liam's cock, as Liam writhed and jerked and clenched his ass, the need to come taking over him. As he got closer and closer to the edge, Liam felt a difference in the atmosphere. The mouth on his cock felt different, although the speed of the sucking never faltered. The hands on his skin felt different, although the grip never softened.

Liam opened his eyes to look down. The green eyes he expected to see sparkling from the moonlight that trickled through his window was replaced with amber ones. The chocolate curls were traded for a darker mass of hair.  This wasn't Harry sucking him off. This was Zayn.

"No--" Liam croaked as he spurted jizz all over his shirt, eyes clamping shut as he felt pleasure coursing through his entire body.

As soon as he could, he forced his eyes open, jerking his head up towards the foot of the bed. Only to see nothing. There was no Harry. There was no Zayn. There was just his hand still holding his cock as he began to go limp.

"Fuck," he muttered, falling back on the pillow. _Worst hand job ever._

\---

Liam stirred awake from the sound of soft giggles next to him. The flight from Dubai to Manila was not full and he was pretty sure the two seats next to him were empty before he dozed off. He opened one eye to take a peek and was met with a little girl with a slightly dark complexion and looked to be not older than five, on the middle seat, sitting on her calves, looking up at him, with her tiny hands on her mouth, trying to stifle her chirpy laughter.

Liam grinned as he pulled his head off where it was leaning against the window and turned to her. "Hello."

She didn't say anything; just kept trying not to laugh. Her shoulders lifted to disturb her jet-black straight hair.

"Are you laughing at me?" Liam asked, pouting.

She bobbed her head.

"Do I have something on my face?"

She finally put her hands down and grinned up at him. She shook her head and forced herself to stand on the seat, gripping at his shirt sleeve to steady herself. She leaned up to him, and Liam had the sense to bend a little, realizing that she was about to whisper something in his ear.

"Your mouth wus open an' yer makin' weird sounds," she whispered sloppily. And then, she giggled again as she pulled back, at the same time Liam laughed softly.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "Did my snoring wake you up from your nap?"

"No," she answered simply. She was seated back on her calves now.

"Where's your mum?"

"Asleep."

"Won't she worry when she finds you gone?"

"No."

"I bet she will."

She shook her head.

Liam raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you know it's wrong to talk to strangers?"

"Um. Yeah. But." She paused to look at the hands on her lap, and then bolted up to stand again. She faltered a little and Liam had to grab at her quickly to save her from falling. She giggled. "I'm Elle. Wha's ya name?"

"I'm Liam."

"So now we not strangers anymore," she said cheekily. Liam couldn't help himself from being fond.

"I guess not," he agreed.

"Leem, I'm a princess, didya know?"

"Are you really?" he indulged.

She nodded. "Me dad said so."

"Well, if your dad said so, it must be true. And you make a lovely princess. The most beautiful I've ever met."

She gave him a quick hug, her hands landing only on his chest and neck. "Thaaank you," she replied when she pulled back.

"You're very welcome."

"Would ya like ta be me prince?"

"I would like that, yes."

Elle beamed at this. But she began to talk about the Philippines. She asked him if he's ever been there. He said no, and she affirmed that neither has she. She asked him if he was excited to go there. He said yes, and she said she's excited too. She said mummy said people speak different there, did Liam know that? He said someone told him that too. She worried how they will understand people when they get there. He chuckled and said, "I'm sure people there will understand us even if we don't understand them."

At this point, a woman, with the same complexion as Elle's but with a shock of curls, came into view at the aisle and gasped in relief. "Elle! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Mummy!" she exclaimed happily, ignoring the frown on her mother's face.

"Come, baby. Let's not bother this man anymore," the woman said, reaching for her daughter who was still standing up and holding on to Liam's shirt as his arm circled around her tiny body.

"Oh no, she's not a bother at all," Liam said, letting go of Elle nonetheless when the woman already had her hands on the girl.

"Am not a bother, mummy," Elle chirped as she was being pulled away from Liam.

"I'm really sorry. She's just very energetic," the woman said, as if she didn't hear anything.

"No, please. I love having her here." Liam flashed an earnest smile at her.

"See, mummy? Can we sit here next ta Leem? Cos he's going ta Fil'peens too."

The woman laughed. "Oh yeah?"

"He ees! Right, Leem?"

He nodded. "That's right."

The woman smiled at Liam. "Is it okay if we just transfer here? She's going to keep insisting on coming back. She does that when she likes people."

He grinned. "I should be flattered then. Princess Elle liking me? I'm honored."

"He's me prince, mummy." Elle cupped her mouth around her mum's ear to resemble a whisper, but was said way too loudly for Liam not to hear.

The woman's face turned serious, then. "I see. Well, then we most definitely have to sit here now."

Liam's eyes crinkled when he chuckled.

"Well, here, Prince Leem. Hold the princess while I retrieve our royal bag." Before she left, she told him, "Name's Dani, by the way."

For the rest of the flight, which was about an hour and a half, Liam, Dani and Elle talked mostly about why they were on their way to the Philippines. Liam learned that Dani was visiting family for a couple of weeks. Dani was part Filipino and part Scottish. She grew up in Manila, but transferred to Birmingham for work. She's happily married to Elle's dad, an Englishman she met at work, for six years now.

Liam showed Dani his itinerary for his tour, and she was extremely helpful with it because she's been to every single one of the places on his list. Dani gave Liam her local mobile number in the Philippines so he could text her if he needed help with anything.

They landed on the International Airport before dawn. Liam had to quickly say goodbye to them because he had a connecting flight to catch. And by the time he landed on the provincial airport at San Fernando, La Union, daylight was already peeking on the horizon.

Before he exited the arrival area of the terminal, he checked his itinerary to know what he was supposed to ride to get to his first stop. A jeepney. _What the hell is a jeepney?_ Liam decided to ask the girl at the Customer Service to be sure.

He was in the middle of explaining that he was on his way to Kahuna Resort and he was supposed to ride a jeepney when-- "Ah! Your name is Liam Payne?" she asked.

"Uh. Yeah?"

"No need to take the jeepney. Louis is outside to pick you up." Liam thought she blushed when she said _Louis_. "He has a placard of your name. You can't miss him."

He thanked her and proceeded to go out, half wondering about the pick-up service. Liam didn't ask for it because there was an extra charge for it, so this was quite a surprise. As soon as he stepped out, a swarm of men came up to him, calling him Joe and asking him where he was headed. He tried to politely tell them to shove off as he craned his neck to look for his name.

True enough, there was a placard with his name in bold letters. He made a beeline to it and wondered if maybe Louis is a common female name in the Philippines because a dark petite girl was holding the sign up.

"Hi, I'm Liam Payne," he greeted, smiling. "Are you Louis?"

She guffawed. "I'm Karen. Louis go wee wee. Here," she said shoving the sign to Liam's hand, still laughing. "He comes back for you. Stay."

Liam watched Karen walk away. And he, well... he stayed... while holding a placard of his own name. _This is ridiculous._

About a minute or two later, someone hollered, "Liam!" He turned to the direction of the booming voice and was met with a vision. A vision of sun-kissed skin in a wife-beater shirt and chino shorts,  brunette hair stylishly mussed, bright smile with perfect teeth. And Liam was partly debating this part in his head, but he swore a flash of light was illuminating this boy's back as he made his way to Liam. Then again, Liam's imagination is way too vivid for his own good sometimes.

So, anyway. The vision. It was lovely, is what it was. And Liam couldn't help but stare.

"Wait, you _are_ Liam, right? 'Cos you're holding the sign. And I swear I will give Karen a piece of my mind if--"

Liam finally snapped out of his trance because the vision was real and was in front of his face, so close and beautiful, and frowning, and he realized that the blank expression on his face could possibly put Karen in some kind of trouble, which he didn't want at all. So he had to interrupt the vision, which he figured was the one called Louis.

"No. I mean, yes. I'm Liam. And you're... Louis?"

He grinned. "I am! Didn't even have to introduce myself, did I? You a stalker or something?"

Liam didn't really know what to make of that, so he just sort of stared, eyebrows slightly knotted.

Louis' face fell. "It was a joke, mate." He sighed. "Come on, then. Are you sure you're British?" he asked as he led the way to their vehicle.

Liam stumbled to catch up with Louis. "I--I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm just really tired from the long travel. Uh, yeah. I'm sure I'm British."

He realized that Louis was laughing quietly because the guy's shoulders were slightly shaking. Louis slid open the door of a minivan and gestured for Liam to put his bag in, which he did. Louis told him to ride up front, and he did. When he was settled on the passenger seat and Louis was turning the ignition of the car, Louis commented, "You know, I haven't been home in a few months, but I'm pretty sure sarcasm is still big in England."

Liam paused to take this in. When he finally figured it out, he felt the heat rising up to his cheeks. "S--sorry. I'm just a bit knackered. Brain's processing things rather slowly."

Louis laughed. "Yeah, I noticed." He turned to the boy next to him and gently slapped Liam's arm with the back of his hand. "Hey, don't worry about it. Your room's pretty awesome. You'll sleep like a baby. And then, you'll have the best lunch. Do you like seafood?"

Liam smiled earnestly. "I love seafood."

Louis countered with a grin. "I sure hope so."

The drive to the resort was pleasant. Liam was tired but Louis had enough energy for the both of them. Liam watched and listened as Louis prattled away about the town, the resort, the beach, the surfing. Louis asked him if he knew how to surf, Liam said no. Louis asked him if he wanted to learn how to surf, Liam was not sure. Louis told him that it'll be fun and he'll be the one to teach Liam. Liam considered this for a moment, but he was looking at Louis and Louis was so excited that he couldn't say no. And right then and there, Louis scheduled him for lessons early in the morning the next day.

At the resort, Louis led him to his room and asked for an ID so that Louis could just process all his paperwork for him while he rested. When Louis left, Liam fell to the bed and was in deep slumber soon enough. Liam woke up at around noon to the sound of rain. He went ahead and showered before going out.

The rain wasn't pouring heavily, and the clouds covered the sun rather comfortably. Liam didn't mind it at all. He could still see all through the resort from the balcony of his room on the second floor, and the breeze felt good on his skin. He spied Louis outside one of the doors in the first floor. He was talking to a girl who was cradling a stack of clean towels in her arms. It looked like Louis was giving her instructions. Liam saw her nodding before she turned and walked away.

Louis didn't leave. Instead, he pulled his mobile out and fiddled with it. Liam started off for the stairs. When he got to the bottom of it, Louis looked up and smiled at the sight of Liam. 

"Hey, man!" Louis greeted, pocketing the mobile and walking up to Liam. Liam smiled and raised a hand. "Did you have a good nap, then?"

"I did. Thanks."

"I bet you're famished, yeah?"

Liam nodded.

"Well, come on."

Louis led him to the restaurant and made him sit at the table with a great view of the beach. There weren't too many people on the resort because, aside from the rain, it was actually a school season (they have a different school system in the Philippines). Louis left to get someone to tend to Liam and only came back after Liam had already ordered.

"Do you mind if I join you? I'll give you a briefing of your itinerary," Louis said with a soft smile.

"Yeah, sure, no. I mean, no, I don't mind." Liam mentally slaps himself for being a blubbering idiot. Louis didn't seem to notice though as he just went and sat across Liam and spread a couple of papers in front of Liam.

"Right, then. Normally, Cathz is the one who does this, but she's in dispose right now, so I'm the one you get." Louis flashes Liam a smile, and Liam is still not used to it. "Cathz is the owner, by the way," Louis explained. "You'll meet her later."

Liam only nodded. He listened quietly as Louis gave him a careful rundown of his full itinerary. He tried to focus but it was not easy. Between Louis' voice that sounded like beautiful music and his sparkling blue eyes that felt like they were peering into Liam's soul each time he glanced up, Liam could barely keep up. Liam snaps out of his reverie every so often to clarify some things that he missed, but mostly he just stared.

When his food got there, Louis began to stand up, poising to leave. And Liam has no idea what came over him that he would blurt out, "Stay." Louis' arse was hovering on his seat, looking a bit surprised himself. "But, uh, if you have...um..." Liam stammered. "If you need to be somewhere, I don't... I don't want to keep you. I just... yeah."

A smirk slowly formed on Louis' lips as he resettled his behind on the chair. "I don't have to be anywhere right now."

Liam smiled, dipped his head to fend off the heat growing on his cheeks, and nodded.

Louis talked endlessly as Liam ate his lunch, telling him about how perfect his timing was for good waves and how he's going to love all the stops he has on his trip and how Louis hopes he's not afraid of trying new stuff because everything he'll see here he's never seen in England. Liam was in awe of how much Louis knows so much about this country. It just made him want to learn more about Louis.


	4. 3. Zayn

There wasn't anything to be worried about after all. It's been three days since he was left in absolute control of the Taguig office and everything had been going smoothly. Whatever matters that needed top management attention was still controllable as far as Zayn's capabilities are concerned. He hoped this would continue until Doniya comes back from her Bacolod trip.

When he learned the details of the charity event, he thought that it could actually be fun. He's known the Aranetas as early as two years ago when they were just setting up shop in the Philippines. His father had brought him along for the meetings with prospective partners and the ocular inspections before operations had even begun. The Aranetas had been very instrumental in getting their company registered in the country; since then, the family has been a close ally to the Maliks.

"Zaynie!"

Zayn looked up from his mobile and grinned as a chubby woman holding a glass of beer got closer to where he was seated. "Cherrie!" he exclaimed, standing up to give her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "You cleaned up well."

She shrugged, said _I'm in a ball, aren't I?_  and winked.

Cherrie is the youngest and the only girl of the four Araneta siblings. Zayn's quickly warmed up to her even before they've actually met. He'd just gotten back to his hotel room after a dinner meeting between his father and Manuel, the eldest of the Aranetas, where he mainly just sat there and tried not to blank out at the conversation between the older men because he was supposed to be there to learn. The telephone in his room rang and, thinking it could only be his father calling him since he didn't really know anyone else there, he answered it with, "hey dad, what's up?"

"My name's not dad," said a girl's voice nonchalantly. "It's Cherrie. And you're Zayn. Be ready in thirty minutes. I'm coming to get you. We're going out."

Zayn heard a click, followed by the furious alarm of the busy tone, and he just stood there thinking, _what just happened?_  Not two seconds after he replaced the receiver of the phone did it ring again. Zayn eyed it with suspicion until he decided to pick it up after the fourth ring. "Hello?" he said cautiously.

"So. I realized I probably didn't make sense." The girl on the line chuckled. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm Manuel Araneta's sister. I'm Cherrie. You and your dad had dinner with him tonight, yes?"

Zayn nodded, only realizing that she couldn't see him, so he had to say, "Yeah."

"He said it's your first time here in Manila and you just turned 18, like a couple of months ago. Well, that's a cause for celebration, don't you think?" She didn't give him a chance to answer. "So, we're going out. I'll bring you to my club. You'll like it there. Drinks on me, hun. How 'bout it?"

Zayn was still a bit disoriented by what's going on, but he was already beginning to relax. She sounded friendly enough, he thought. And, it would be nice to have someone to hang out with who was his age. So, he wasn't really reluctant when he said, "Sound's good."

Turned out, Cherrie was actually eight years older than Zayn. And when she said _my club_ , she actually meant that she _owned_ it, and the _drinks on me_  proposition was a loose translation for _open bar_. But far from being intimidating, Cherrie was actually easy to get along with. And could very well be British for how she seems to have already mastered sarcasm.

Zayn pulled a chair for her, and as she was taking her seat and thanking him, he asked, "Did you just get here?"

She nodded, taking a swig of her drink.

"And the first thing you got is beer. Of course," Zayn said. "Aren't you going to eat at all?"

She raised an eyebrow and retorted, "aren't you?"

"I ate," he answered defensively.

"Liar. Robert said you haven't gotten off this seat since you got here. I mean, really, Zayn. Between the two of us, you're the one who should be taking advantage of every buffet spread you come across."

He shrugged. "I've a had a nibble before I got here."

She rolled her eyes as she caught the rim of the glass between her lips.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it," he continued.

"What?" she asked incredulously. "How could I miss your first official publicity act for Malik Resources Philippines Incorporated as Vice President of Handsome?" Zayn barks a laugh at the title. "Never! You wound me with such insenitive insinuation."

His face turned solemn after a moment of laughter. "I'm just a bit nervous. I wish I didn't have to make a speech. I've never done this before. Thanks for helping with the speech... for being here," he said earnestly.

She smiled at him fondly. "You don't have to say thanks, stupid. You know I got your back." He nodded. "Besides." She paused for a long gulp, emptying the glass of its contents. "If you trip and fall flat on your pretty face, I would kill myself if I didn't get a video of that."

He lunged forward laughing and squeezed her round cheeks in to force her into having fishlips. She hated that.

\---

The short ceremony on stage went off without incident. Zayn did the speech he and Cherrie worked on as perfect as he figured he ever could. During the handing of the giant checks to the beneficiaries, he met Roy and Naomi for the first time after a quick introduction by Robert, one of the Araneta brothers who hosted the event. The three Brits had a bit of a chat on stage while waiting for the photographer's instructions on where he wanted them.

After the emcee had concluded the ceremonies and thanked the donors and sponsors who came, Zayn was finally making his way down the short steps. He looked at the table where Cherrie was nodding at him and giving him thumbs up signs earlier while he was going on at the podium. She wasn't there. Zayn was about to give her a ring to ask where she was and when they were leaving for her club, when he heard his name. 

Zayn turned to find Roy waving at him from several feet away. He was next to his sister, who waved at Zayn too. And then there was the blonde boy from earlier. 

Zayn almost forgot about him, actually. He caught the blonde staring at him from across the room while he was talking to Robert earlier in the night. He found it cute when the boy quickly averted his eyes when Zayn smiled at him then, trying to hide the deep blush on his face no doubt but failing miserably. And this blonde boy did it again when Zayn flashed Roy and Naomi a grin.

When he realized that the three were walking towards him, he made the effort to meet them halfway.

"Zayn, you haven't met Niall," Roy began, grabbing the boy Niall on the shoulder to pull him closer.

He didn't expect the deep voice and distinct lilt of brogue that came afterwards. "Niall Horan," the boy said, reaching for a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Malik."

Zayn gripped Niall's hand firmly, laughing as he did. "That's my dad. Just Zayn, please. No misters and shit like that." Everyone chuckled. "You're Irish, then?" he proceeded when he pulled his hand back.

Niall nodded. "Jus' a simple lad from the small town a' Mullingar."

"He's come down for volunteer work," Naomi supplied. "He's coaching our kids."

Zayn dipped his hands in both his front pockets and smiled. "You lot are really admirable, you know that? You make our generation look good."

All three couldn't help looking all flattered and blushing at the compliment. The fact that Zayn and his smooth voice and soft, appreciative look at each of them may have had a hand in that blush too.

"Well, none o' us'd be able ta do much without people like ya helping fund it," Niall complimented back.

Zayn laughed and shook his head. "No. People like you would find other ways to help people even without money from people like us. All we've got is money. What you've got is heart and that's worth more than all the money in the world."

"You trying to make us feel sorry for you 'cos you're rich, mate?" Roy asked. "It's not working."

They all laughed; and it was in the middle of this that Cherrie fell beside Zayn. "So. Much. British. People. I'm suffocating."

"He's Irish," Zayn informed, gesturing at Niall.

Cherrie's eyes brightened. "Ahhh! So that explains why you're the cutest one in this lot." Niall blushed a deep pink. Cherrie laughed. "Is that a natural reaction?" she turned to Roy and Naomi. "He's really red in the face, it's worrying me a little."

Niall covered his face with one hand as a chuckling Roy clapped at his back and said, "This here's Niall, Cherrie. He's here for some six months now, coaching footy."

Niall managed to shake hands with Cherrie despite himself.

"Thank you for what you're doing for the kids, Niall," Cherrie said earnestly.

"Thank you, as well," Niall said smiling.

She shook her head. "I don't have any worthwhile contribution here, to be honest. It's all Robert and Dan." She glanced at Zayn and slapped the back of her hand on his arm. "And this guy's family right here. I'm just the girl who supplies the booze." She grinned.

"Speaking of," Zayn began. "You all wanna go down to Cherrie's? We're heading there now."

"Oh yeah!" Cherrie exclaimed. "Open bar for you three tonight. All the alcohol you want."

Naomi, Roy and Niall looked at each other, silently congregating.

"Oh come on," Cherrie insisted. "The night is young and so are we!"

"Well, we're young. You're--" Zayn didn't get to finish that thought because Cherrie's hand was already on his face gripping at the skin in the general area where his mouth, nose and cheeks are.

"I am not old, you little shit," Cherrie hissed.

\---

There was already a queue outside of the club when they arrived. It was still moving, which meant the club hasn't been filled to its capacity yet. Cherrie went straight to the girl at the entrance, most likely giving her instructions, while Zayn made a bit of small talk with the two bouncers manning the line and the three others just stood there waiting. Cherrie then called them to her and told them that Lacey will bring them to their booth. Apparently, she saw a friend somewhere at the back of the line and was going to go get her before going in.

The night started off rather tame--with Zayn, Roy and Niall ordering pints and Naomi a glass of pina colada while they all just lounged about in the booth bobbing their heads to the music and watching other people dance, very rarely talking to each other because that was a strenous exercise in the loud chaos of the club. They never saw Cherrie again, but the same waitress who served them their first batch of drinks kept walking past them every few minutes. Zayn knew Cherrie had appointed that girl to pay attention to them in case they needed anything.

After finishing up his second serving of alcohol--vodka tonic this time--Zayn was restless, so he asked the others if they wanted to go dance. Naomi and Roy were quickly up on their feet. Zayn looked at Niall, who shook his head. Niall said he was going to finish his second pint first and then he'll find them. Zayn shrugged and wrapped his arm around Naomi's waist as he pulled her into the thick crowd.

Zayn and Naomi danced uncaring, but Roy had already found a girl to turn his attention to. Although Zayn and Naomi were dancing together, they weren't really _dancing together_ ; they were just moving their bodies in front of each other. So it wasn't long until someone in the crowd realized that they could wrap their arms around Naomi's waist and grind against her backside without Zayn starting a punch-up.

He didn't leave or turn away when it happened. He watched the brazen boy for awhile, making sure that Naomi was alright with him. The stranger was fit enough, Zayn concluded. And when Naomi leaned back against the boy's chest, tipping her neck to the side and allowing him to pepper her with kisses, Zayn knew she was alright.

Zayn made to turn and decided to go and see if Niall was still at their booth, but before he could find his way out of the mass of people, he felt strong hands grab his hips and pull him, his back slamming against a hard chest. Instinct made him snap his head to see who it was, but whoever it was wouldn't let him see because a pair of lips was already on the side of his neck, sloppily kissing at it.

Zayn relished the attention; allowing the stranger to continue assaulting his neck with wet lips, allowing the stranger to bring his hands up on Zayn's chest and abs, allowing the stranger to rub his hard-on against Zayn's covered arse. Zayn's own cock was getting hard as well, and perhaps the stranger sensed this or something because the left hand on his chest slid down and brushed ever so lightly on his straining trousers.

"Yer so hot," the stranger whispered hoarsely, nipping at the shell of Zayn's ear.

"Lemme see you," Zayn breathed, as he turned. But the hands gripped him steady, licked a long line up his neck, hissed _no_ , and was gone. Zayn quickly looked around but it was impossilble to even guess who it was, everyone was inebriated and seemed completely lost in the music and their own lusts. He thought he saw a flash of blonde walking deeper into the crowd, but then his eyes caught sight of another flash of blonde struggling to get past people in the corner of his eye, and he realized that it was the strobe lights that were doing the trick.

He took a deep breath and proceeded with his original plan before he was _very rudely_ interrupted. Niall was not at the booth. But Roy was--with a girl straddling him and quite possibly eating his face off. Zayn chuckled to himself and decided that _now_ would be a good time for a smoke.

When he got out onto the sidewalk, he positioned himself on the other side of the door, away from the still-lengthy queue. He chanced a glance at his watch and saw that it was almost 2AM. Business was really good, Zayn thought as he pulled up a stick and trapped it between his lips. He grabbed his Zippo and tried to light the cigarette but a gust of wind killed the flame.

"Fucking hell," he mumbled, flicking his thumb at the wheel to try again. The wind was threatening again but it was blocked by two pale hands that helped Zayn's own to protect the flame. As the tobacco began to burn, Zayn took a long drag before straightening his back and snapping shut his Zippo. 

He grinned at Niall as he breathed the smoke out of his lungs. "Thanks, man. You want one?"

Niall shook his head, plunging his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. "Nah. I'm good."

"I was wondering where you went off to. I just saw Roy with some girl when I got back, and I think our boy's about to get some tonight."

Niall laughed, and Zayn decided that he liked Niall's laugh very, very much. "Went to the toilets and relieved meself. I've had me a couple more pints after you'd all gone dancing, my bladder felt like t'was 'bout to explode. Saw ya on yer way out here so I followed ya."

"So, you're having fun?"

"Absolutely." Niall paused to check the long queue. "Damn. Is it always like this? Popular place, innit?"

"Yeah. Cherrie's done really well for herself. This one's just hers, not her family's, just hers; so she's rather proud of it."

Niall nodded. "So... you guys are..."

Zayn's eyebrow hitched. "What?"

"I don't know... like..."

"What?" Zayn asked impatiently.

"Together? Or--"

Zayn threw his head back laughing, which caused Niall to jump a little. "Me and Cherrie," he gasped in between his choking chortle. "Oh god, that's classic." Zayn laid a hand on Niall's shoulder. "Brilliant joke, mate."

When Zayn finally calmed down, Niall was already chuckling a litte. "Don't get me wrong," Zayn explained, "she's all sorts of perfect. And I fucking love her to bits, but she's like a sister, you know?"

"Yeh, I get that. Just that ya two are so close. I just... well, yer lucky to have someone like her here."

Zayn nodded. "Don't I know it. And besides, I'm not into the kind of anatomy she has."

Niall frowned. "Wha, ya mean like fat?"

Zayn scowled and punched him on the arm, growling, "Twat." Niall winced and immediately rubbed his arm. "I mean like the female anatomy, you knob."

"Sorry, didn't mean ta--" Niall began.

Zayn relaxed. "Sorry, I punched you."

"I deserved it."

And then silence as Zayn took another drag.

"So ya like dudes," Niall said.

"Yeah. Is there a problem with that?"

Niall shook his head, almost too quickly. "No. No problem at all." And Zayn was not sure, but he thought he saw a glint in Niall's eyes when the blonde concluded, "No problem whatsoever."

"Okay, good," Zayn said as he toed on the remnants of the cigarette. "I'm going to have another. You can go back inside if you want."

"No, I'll stay. I like this cool weather t'night. Heat's been too harsh this past week, don't ya think?"

Zayn wanted to laugh as they've resorted to talking about the weather now, but he picked up on Niall's train of conversation anyway. "It was a bitch. Heard there's a storm coming, though." He lit another cigarette and Niall was automatically there to help him fend off the wind.

"Sounds about right after that heat spell. Just hope there isn't too much rain, though. Naomi said that there was that time when a flash flood happened and they were trapped in the second floor of the house."

"Shit, I remember that. Like, the whole Metro Manila was flooded or something. I wasn't here when it happened, but it was all over the news."

"Most of the houses in Payatas don't have second floors, ya know. I can't imagine how it was for them."

Zayn looked at Niall as he went on about how little all those people already had to begin with and the flood washing all that away. He knew then that Niall really did care. And something tugged at his heartstrings just looking at this boy before him. Niall really was beautiful inside and out.

They were interrupted when Niall pulled his mobile out to read a text. It was Roy giving him a heads up that he wasn't going home with them as he's on his way to a girl's place to shag. "Yep," Niall said, returning to Zayn. "Our boy's getting some t'night."

Zayn chuckled. Before he could say anything, Niall was already holding up a hand and checking his mobile again. 

"Christ," Niall muttered. He dropped his mobile back into his pocket and looked at Zayn. "Naomi's off to some bloke's place too." Zayn laughed. But Niall was looking a bit cross. "I can't go home this late by meself. I don't plan on getting murdered today."

"Well, come on, then," Zayn said flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gutter. "Let's go back inside. We'll stay here until daylight so you can go home without fear of getting stabbed." Niall didn't particularly find Zayn's joke amusing, but he followed Zayn back in nonetheless.

They went back to their booth but it was now populated with two couples snogging. Zayn was about to shoo them away when Niall pulled him instead to the bar, where they sat and ordered some more alcohol. About an hour filled with booze and laughter later, Zayn realized that he couldn't keep his promise to Niall. He was drunk and tired as fuck and just wanted to lie down on his own bed so he could wake up late in the afternoon.

"Hey, buddy," Zayn talked into Niall's ear to fend off the noise the club was making. "You can crash in my couch if you want, 'cos I really just want to call it a night."

Niall, who was so much more pissed than he was with what seemed like five gallons of beer the Irish had already downed during the course of the night, held his face in both hands and made way to his ear to say something. Zayn felt Niall's wet lips land on the skin between his ear and temple, mumbling, "I want to go home with you."

"Right," Zayn said, catching Niall's body as the boy slumped on him. "Well, fucking use your feet, then. I'm not carrying you out of here."

Niall was able to walk towards the exit with Zayn's help; and Zayn came to the conclusion that Niall was extremely clingy when he's hammered because aside from using Zayn as support, he kept nuzzling his nose at Zayn's neck. When they got into the car, Zayn was able to manage to tell the driver to bring them home before Niall was on him again, only this time Niall was licking and gently sucking on his neck.

"Motherfu-- Niall, quit it," Zayn reprimanded, pushing him away and gently leaning him on the door of his side of the seat. Niall didn't try to move again for the rest of the drive. Zayn figured he had fallen asleep.

Bringing up Niall to his condo unit proved to be none different than what he went through with getting him into the car. Niall let Zayn walk him to the elevator without much incident, but quickly grabbed around Zayn's waist and slammed their fronts as soon as the sliding doors closed. An air of _jesus fuck_ was punched out of Zayn. Okay, so maybe it was a little different.

Zayn stood frozen as Niall kissed him sloppily on his jaw and neck until the unmistakeable _ding!_  of the elevator made Niall stop and step away from his body. Suddenly, it was Niall who was eagerly pulling him out of the lift and onto the hall, walking briskly as if the lad knew where they were supposed to go. Niall didn't, of course; and they'd already passed Zayn's door when he realized it. Zayn finally had the sense to pull Niall to the right direction.

Zayn barely had the chance to close the door before Niall was pushing him against the nearest wall and mashing their lips together.

"Wanted ta do this the whole fucking night," Niall grunted against Zayn's mouth. 

Zayn didn't know what to say to that. To be honest, he thought Niall was straight. But here was Niall, throwing himself at Zayn; and Zayn's not an idiot to stop this from happening.

Niall licked the seam of his mouth, and Zayn easily parted his lips to let Niall's tongue in. Niall hungrily explored the orifice, prodding his tongue on Zayn's teeth and the roof of his mouth; pushing desperately to take in and taste more of him.

Zayn felt frantic hands under his shirt clawing at the skin above his belt. Niall gripped his sides as the Irish forced their hips against each other. Zayn moaned in Niall's mouth at the feeling of Niall's hard cock against his own. Niall was so desperate, Zayn thought, and he found it so fucking hot that Niall was desperate for him.

"Lemme fuck you, yeah?" Zayn whispered.

Niall pulled back a little to stare at Zayn and fuck he had the bluest, most lust-filled eyes Zayn's ever seen. "Yeah," Niall breathed, not blinking. "Yeah, fuck me, Zayn." _Shit_. His name sounded so dirty the way Niall said it.

Zayn pushed him to the bedroom as the blonde continued to cling to him, mouth assaulting his neck and collarbone, sucking and slurping and biting. Once at the edge of the bed, Zayn forced Niall off and pushed him back, letting him plop on the mattress. "Strip," Zayn ordered, and Niall complied like he was on a race for it.

He watched Niall as he took his own clothes off. Niall was stroking himself when he climbed on the bed. He crawled slowly from between Niall's legs, catching Niall's wrist and forcing it away from his cock. Niall whined at this and Zayn couldn't help from chuckling. "Patience," he said as he fitted their mouths together.

It calmed Niall a little, but then he was jerking his hips up and pulling Zayn's arse down looking for friction. "Shit, Niall," Zayn gasped at the crook of his neck.

"Fuck me," Niall said airily, still grinding up at Zayn, rubbing their cocks between their bodies.

Zayn nodded, because he was so far gone with Niall and his deep, raspy voice that kept repeating a mantra of _fuck me_. Zayn laboured to reach for the drawer next to his bed, where he keeps a bottle of lube and some condoms. Niall was strong and refused to let him go and that made it difficult for Zayn to quickly get what he needed. He wanted to be annoyed at Niall, but he was more horny than anything else and no other emotion or feeling had any place in his body at the moment.

"On your stomach," he told Niall darkly and the blonde was quick to comply, which _thank god_ because now he can touch Niall properly with less interruption. He ran his fingers down Niall's spine, eliciting a lovely shudder from the pale boy. He bent and placed wet kisses at the skin where Niall's backbone connected with his neck, at the same time pulling Niall's legs wide open with one free hand and his knees.

Zayn grabbed the lube and generously coated the fingers in his right hand. He sat on his calves between Niall's legs, straining to see his waiting hole in the dimness of the room. The solitary light in the bedroom was soft and barely illuminates, but enough to show the shapes that made up Niall's body. Zayn had the urge to dive his face into Niall's crack and circle his tongue on the rim but his own cock was already twitching, and to be perfectly honest, with all the alcohol coursing in his veins, he was afraid that he might actually come already if Niall didn't quit moaning like a trollop. 

Niall wiggled his arse towards Zayn, possibly annoyed at what the fuck's taking so long. He smirked as he grabbed a cheek and warned, "Stop that."

Niall groaned. "Goddamnit, Zayn. Just fucking do something. Anything. I don't---arrggh." Zayn had slipped his middle finger in all the way to the knuckle.

"Like that?"

"F--fuck you."

Zayn sniggered in reply, wiggling his finger to try and loosen the tight hole a little bit.

"God--damn," Niall sighed, when Zayn curled it up. Zayn twisted his wrist to hook at Niall's prostate and the Irish had to muffle a wail against the expensive pillow cradling his head.

Zayn didn't warn Niall when he slid his middle finger out only to push back in with the index finger this time. And he didn't warn Niall when he began to slowly pump his hand in and out of him. Niall didn't really seem to mind, his gasps and groans and cries sounded too lustful that even though he might be feeling some pain, it can't really be that bad.

"Now, please," Niall begged.

Zayn's eyebrows furrowed. "Not yet. You're too fucking tight, Niall. When's the last time someone was in here?"

Niall whimpered. Embarrassed at how casually Zayn had asked such an intimate question. But that was answer enough for the tanned one, and went ahead to insert a third finger inside. It was not without difficulty. Zayn actually grunted a little bit at the action; a long drawled out groan from Niall in exchange for his efforts.

Just a couple of fisting was all it needed for Niall to begin another prayer of _pleasepleaseplease_. And Zayn himself was already so delirious with anticipation that he can't delay it anymore. He needed to be inside Niall.

Zayn pulled his hand out of Niall, who whined at the sudden loss, grabbed the packet of condom and ripped its foil with his teeth. After placing the prophylactic on him, he grabbed the lube and added to the sheer coating that was already spread on it. He gave himself a couple of good tugs before guiding himself to Niall's slick hole.

Niall elicited a deep squall when the head breached his opening. Zayn carefully and slowly inched deeper, one hand supporting him up while the other was gripping at an arse cheek to force Niall open as much as possible. 

"You're so tight, babe. You're so fucking... Ugh... You're so fucking tight." 

Niall pressed his lips firmly, holding back any more sound that might escape. But he was breathing sharply through his nose and this was difficult to conceal. Other than that, Zayn was completely unaware that Niall was gripping the sheets so hard he's practically cut the blood circulation in his knuckles. He was completely unaware that beads of water had trickled down from Niall's tightly shut eyes. That is, until Niall failed to stifle a sniffle.

Zayn froze. "Ni...? A--are you...?"

"'M fine," he mumbled. "D--don't... Don't stop... Please."

Zayn carefully lowered himself, touching his heated chest on Niall's equally burning back, digging further into Niall until he bottomed out. He kissed Niall on the back of his head before angling to bring his lips behind Niall's ear.

"You're doing so good, babe," Zayn encouraged with a kiss on the shell of his ear, rubbing Niall's side for comfort. "You feel so good. S'just been awhile for you, yeah?"

Niall hummed and Zayn continued to touch and caress him, muttering sweet nothings into his ear, while they both waited for Niall to adjust to the fullness of having all of Zayn inside him. Soon enough, he was whispering _okay, okay_ and Zayn didn't need to be told twice.

He pulled away, chest first and then pelvis and then cock. Right before the head slipped out, he slowly slid back in. He repeated this a couple more times before picking up a steady rhythmic pace. Niall was moaning again, meeting Zayn's hips with his arse. Zayn was patient; he tried his best not to grab Niall's hips and slam against him raw and hard.

"Wanna come," Niall begged in between ragged breaths. Zayn scooped an arm under Niall to lift his arse and created a space between skin and sheets, steadying Niall's knees for support. His other hand grabbed Niall's length to pump furiously in sync with the thrusts of his hips.

"Do it, babe. I want you to come so hard," Zayn growled.

And that did it for Niall. He screamed Zayn's name as he shot his jizz on the bedding and spilled the rest of it on Zayn's hand as it continued to pump his cock dry.

With Niall slumped on the mattress, lost in the pleasure of his orgasm, Zayn grabbed a hold of Niall's hips and pistoned in and out of the Irish lad until he was emptying his own balls into the condom.

Zayn dropped his weight on Niall, exhausted. He kissed Niall on his sweaty temple and then his deep pink cheek before pulling out of him. Once he's discarded the condom properly, he laid on his back next to Niall, who didn't bother to even stir and look at him.

He couldn't remember the last time he allowed a guy to stay the night, probably because it never happened. And he was considering doing his usual spiel to casually throw out the guy who had just helped him get off but quickly decided against it when he heard Niall snoring. The lad was pissed drunk and fucked out; and Zayn wasn't completely heartless and inconsiderate to shove him out the door in that state. He might get hit by a bus on the way home or something.

Besides, they're not strangers. Niall's not some random guy he pulled at the club. They may even be considered mates now. Zayn thought about that and hoped that Niall wouldn't freak out about this in the morning. A part of him argued, _it was Niall who jumped on you anyway, why would he freak out?_  But then a part of him countered, _well, he was fucking wasted and you weren't, so this is kind of on you_. He sighed.

He quite liked Niall. He's a good sort and seemed like a fun guy to be around. But if it doesn't fall into place, it's not like Zayn's gonna lose sleep over it. _Que sera sera_. 

Zayn woke up at around noon. There was no Niall on the bed and there was no Niall in the condo. Other than the soiled sheets, there wasn't even a slightest indication that Niall had ever been there. Zayn phoned the restaurant downstairs and had his favorite burger brought up.

\---

Zayn hasn't heard from Niall after that night. Well, that's not really a surprise. They didn't exchange numbers or any of that and they don't really have the same circle of friends, do they? It's not a big deal, really. In fact, Zayn's quickly forgotten about Niall because work swallowed him whole come Monday morning.

He felt like clawing his eyes out when he came in to find out that the Internet was down. After a few minutes, he was informed that the cables in their area short-circuited and emergency repairs were already underway. In the meantime, they have no Internet and operations are crippled. He spent the entire morning making calls and asking for explanations how to go around the situation. He wanted to solve this on his own.

He endured a tongue lashing from his sister because he waited four hours before telling her of what's happened. It could've been remedied sooner had he not been too stubborn and just asked for her help. They made to re-route calls to the newly-opened Bacolod office and this took the rest of the afternoon until the evening to complete. Zayn left the office sometime around 10PM, hungry and tired. He came home and didn't bother to even look at the fridge for anything to munch on. He went straight to bed and fell asleep wearing  his work clothes.

The next day was none better. They got the Internet back, but it still wasn't stable. Some calls had been returned to their office, only to have them dropped 60% of the time. They had to re-route the calls to Bacolod again. If Zayn wasn't on the phone with his sister, it's with someone else. If he wasn't on the phone, he was talking to someone from some department. He was never left alone until it was almost 6PM.

He laid down on the couch, with his head and feet propped on either armrests, trying not to think. Concentrating only on breathing and enjoying that moment of peace. It didn't last long, naturally. There's no extended moments of peace when you're physically in that office. His 45-year-old secretary (well, his father's and Doniya's secretary), Minerva, came in to give him the statuses of all matters that have plagued him these past two days.

The Internet provider confirmed that full signal will be back by 8PM that night. Doniya was on standby in Bacolod, ready to re-route calls to Taguig when they get the proper signal they needed. To curb costs, they have cancelled one shift for the day. The operations manager has already said he was staying for the night, so Zayn could go home and rest. His sister said to eat something. Oh, and that charity they were sponsoring, Let the Kids Play, has sent him a gift--a photobook with handwritten notes from the children.

Minerva excused herself to get the book, while Zayn sat himself up. He smiled at the sight of the book as Minerva handed it to him. "Isn't this sweet of them," Zayn muttered.

Minerva nodded. "The boy who delivered it said the kids were very excited when they were making it yesterday."

Zayn looked at her. "Boy?"

"Blonde fella with a weird accent. He might be Scottish or--"

"Irish?"

She nodded. "Yes, yes. i think he is."

Zayn looked at the book with knitted eyebrows. "He brought this here today?"

"A few minutes ago," she corrected. Zayn's head shot up to train her eyes at her. She shrugged. "He wanted to have an audience with you but I said you were very busy and told him to come back another day."

"Minerva! You should have told me." Zayn's voice was firm, but not condescending. He knew she was only looking out for him, as she does with his sister and his father. Gripping the book in one hand, he crossed the space towards the door. He wasn't sure what he was planning on doing, really. Run after Niall? That's stupid.

But Zayn didn't have time to think because he was already swinging the door of his office wide open. And there, in the waiting area near Minerva's desk sat a boy, messy blonde hair tucked underneath a backwards cap, wearing faded denim shorts and a loose gray shirt, one ankle resting on his other leg's knee, reading a magazine. He looked up, and then Zayn was blinded with the widest, most genuine grin he's ever seen.

And he's barely heard Minerva when she said, "But he said he was willing to wait for you."


	5. 4. Louis

Off-peak seasons are awesome, Louis always thought. The resort was less chaotic and more laid back, which is the perfect vibe for surfing. He's learned that surfing may be one of the most dangerous sports out there, one of the most intense, but to be able to succeed on it, the surfer needs to be calm and centered. He's glad the waves are bigger and wilder when it's not summertime. He can ride them properly.

In the Summer, people flock to the resort to take advantage of the sun and the beach, not so much the waves. There are always children shrieking during their playtime, teenagers laughing raucously and couples just being all disgustingly sweet with each other. Louis barely gets to surf mainly for two reasons: one, he's always running around during the day, too busy to even breathe, and two, the waves aren't that big anyway--but enough for beginners to ride, so his teaching gig did not really take a backseat.

During the rainy season, the waves roared higher and Louis liked that. He liked the combined feeling of excitement and nervousness when he's faced with a roaring tower of water. He liked how his heart would beat for what seems like 100 kilometers per hour right before he was to stand up on his board. He liked the danger and the uncertainty of it all.

Louis watched from the restaurant as Cathz and Liam journeyed lazily back from their walk along the beach. Cathz was an incredible resort owner; she always tried to be personal with her guests. She told Louis once that if you treat resort patrons like family, they would want to come back. And true enough, many of the people who come to the place are returning guests, and had even referred their friends to the resort. He thinks that it's this kind of attitude that made the resort number one amongst its competition situated along that lengthy strip of beach.

"You will love Palawan. It's one of my favorite places for diving," Louis heard her say as he met them at the top of the stairs connecting the beach and the restaurant.

"Insuferable, isn't she?" he told Liam.

"You're fired," Cathz tells him matter-of-factly.

Liam only smiled and remained awkwardly quiet at the exchange.

Louis grinned at her. "For, like, three hours? I could use the time off to nap."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? So, no." She stuck her tongue out quickly and discreetly so Liam wouldn't see.

Louis chuckled.

"Besides, I think Liam here wanted to go into town, didn't you?" Cathz said, turning to Liam. "You should go with him." That last part was for Louis.

Liam looked a little apprehensive. "Oh no. It's fine, I think I can manage--"

"Cool. I was thinking of going to town too, actually," Louis said cutting him off. Liam turned to him, half-confused and half... happy, it looked like.

"Good," Cathz said. "I need you to drop off the coffee grounds at _Mang_ Rudy's." She looked at Liam. "Do you like pottery?"

"Um. I never actually--"

" _Mang_  Rudy makes great pottery. Like, he does it old-style, without modern machines and stuff. Many tourists drop by to check out his process. I think you'll appreciate that."

Liam, for some reason, glanced up at Louis and Louis just automatically nodded, which made Liam smile and nod in agreement with Cathz. She did a light tap on Liam's shoulder, telling Louis to "take care of our guest" and left to go to her office.

Louis tucked both of his hands in the front pockets of his chinos. "Are you ready to go now or...?

Liam nodded, smiling. Louis smiled back. He thought Liam looked so adorable, all shy around him and what-not. He's cute. Like, childlike cute almost. Of course, from the neck down, Liam looked nothing like a child. For one, his shoulders and arms are massive--like, damn boy, how often do you work out? Furthermore, Liam's pretty tall; at least three inches taller than Louis. But his face, though. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. The way he looks like a 6-year-old when his eyebrows pull together 'cos he's tired. Cutest thing Louis' ever seen.

Okay, so maybe Louis is taking note of Liam's facial expressions way too much.

They took an old Jeep to town. They had to drop off the used coffee grounds to _Mang_ Rudy's first otherwise it would make the jeep smell like coffee if it's left in there for a long time. Louis doesn't usually mind, but Cathz doesn't like it and she's the boss, so.

"His name's _Mang_ Rudy? Like, his first name is _Mang_?" Liam asked.

Louis chuckled. "No. His first name's Rudy. Here, they use _Mang_  (pronounced Muhng) like a term of respect. Kind of like 'mister', I guess? They actually got a whole lot of adjectives here for when addressing people older than you. Like, you call a girl who's older than you _Ate_ (pronounced Ah-teh) and you call a guy who's older than you _Kuya_ (pronounced Coo-yah). When, like, they're extremely old, you call them _Manang_ (Mah-nuhng) for women and _Manong_ (Mah-nong) or _Mang_ for men."

Liam nodded, but his face was so obviously painted with confusion. And Louis wanted to reach out and touch his face to remove the crease he's making on his forehead. He just tried not to laugh instead.

"You didn't get any of the words I just said, did you?"

Liam's sheepish look was answer enough and it made Louis laugh.

"Sorry," Liam said softly, dipping his head. Louis noticed the pink color tinged on his cheek.

He wasn't able to stop himself when he reached and placed a hooked index finger under Liam's chin to gently force him to look up. "'S alright," he said, just as softly. "You'll get them soon enough." Liam smiled, appreciative.

And then, Louis felt weird. He quickly retracted his hand and placed it back on the wheel. He didn't even know what came over him to do that. That was way too... too... intimate? Close? Much? He's known the guy less than 10 hours! You don't go touching guys' chins just like that.

Maybe it felt weird for Liam too because he suddenly turned to his window and became interested in the scenery. Louis wanted to bang his own forehead on the windshield. _Great job, fucker._

Louis' not a stranger to flirting. He flirts and he flirts easy. It's mostly because the other person would start. And, if he's into that person, he doesn't shy away.

Louis looks good and he knows this. Girls all over town practically swoon when he smiles at them or give them the slightest attention. He doesn't take locals to bed though. Never. He doesn't want to shag people he sees everyday. Guests, however, well.

And, It's not a secret that Louis swings both ways, it's just that he's subtle about it. The Philippines is not exactly a liberal country, more so La Union, which is basically more of the provincial side--much more conservative than in the cities of Metro Manila.

Anyway, it's easier for Louis to bed female guests, only because they're surprisingly more forward. There have been several male guests who would eye him in a way that's nothing short of wanting to ravage him, but most of them haven't really made a move. It frustrates Louis sometimes because he actually finds some of them hot. But he's never one to make the first move either. It's the principle of it all.

The last boy he was with was this loud Irishman who was on a holiday at the resort with his friends about four months ago. That boy was all energy and Louis really liked him. In fact, they've become good friends and e-mail each other every once in a while.

Liam is so different from that boy, though. Liam is quiet and timid and careful. And Louis would look at his lips and wondered how it would feel against his own. But Liam doesn't look the type who would make the first move, so Louis' not holding out for anything to happen between them. Because, principle.

When they got to Mang Rudy's, a couple of boys carrying a crate filled with pottery called a greeting to him. Louis was a regular at the factory and knows practically everyone there. He motioned for Liam to follow him as he carried the bag of used coffee grounds towards the house situated next to the small factory.

A pudgy man with a big smiling face comes out of the house before they could even get near it. "Louis!"

Louis' eyes grew wide and he laughed. "Holy shit, Marco! I didn't know you're here!" He walked faster to get to where Marco was and they hugged. "When'd you get back, man?"

Marco shrugged, "Saturday. How you been?"

"I'm good, I'm good." Louis caught it when Marco flicked his eyes towards Liam. "Oh yeah. This is Liam, he's a guest at the resort." Marco and Liam shook hands as Louis continued, "Marco here is _Mang_ Rudy's son. He's a mechanical engineer, working at a cargo ship."

"Oh, you're a tourist?" Marco asked Liam.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got here today, actually."

"Cathz wanted me to bring him here so he could see the factory," Louis added.

Marco nodded, but his smirk hinted something. "Well, okay. Those are coffee grounds for the garden?" He asked referring to the small sack that Louis was still holding in his hand. Louis nodded once and just as quickly, Marco was grabbing at the bag. "Let me put that in the back and you give our guest here a tour of the place. You know it like the back of your hand anyway."

Louis thought Marco winked at him but it was too subtle that he really couldn't tell for sure. He surrended the sack to Marco and just nodded in agreement.

They call the place 'factory' but the whole thing is really just a backyard operation. It's pretty decent, though. They don't exactly produce pottery items for mass consumption. The pottery items are crafted and are usually just of limited number, the standard number is to produce about 20 small pieces of a design a week. The number decreases the bigger the items are. But the amount produced would ultimately depend on how many the client really needs.

"Like, see those molds there?" Louis said, pointing to a thick stone-type slabs that are hollowed in the middle to create shapes. "I think they're making vases this week. That template was made based on specification given by a client."

Louis walked Liam through the process of pottery making--from where the clay is gathered to the point where the shaped figures are dried before they are finally placed in a kiln to harden. Liam nodded and took in all the information that Louis gave him about pottery as if he was going to be tested for it.

When they got to the molding station, where some six molders were working on some clay, Louis asked him, "Hey, have you ever tried molding clay?"

Liam shook his head. "Not really. Wouldn't really know where in London they have stuff like that. Besides, I'm quite certain I'd mess it up completely."

Louis chuckled. "On your first time? Probably. I know I did. Made a completely different thing from what I'd planned to make. Got the whole room in tears, laughing. But, like, do you want to give it a go? I could teach you."

Liam smiled at him, awestruck. "You do pottery too?"

Louis shrugged. "I'm here a lot, aren't I? It'd be stupid not to learn it."

"I guess."

"So what of it? Do you want to try it? I mean, you're out on an adventure. Might as well try new stuff, right?"

Liam beamed with confidence at the reminder that that was precisely the point of going off to a strange land on his own--to try new things. So, he nodded.

Louis led him to a smaller room with two potter's wheels; it was mostly where _Mang_ Rudy or his family would work if they fancy getting their hands dirty. Louis was so welcomed by the family that he had been allowed access to that room (to the house even--he'd slept there many a night after a heavy drinking session with _Mang_ Rudy and his sons). He proceeded to plug the wheel on, then went to grab two handfuls of wet clay and dropped it on the plate. Louis motioned for Liam to sit on the stool in front of it.

"Unless you want to do a re-enactment of Ghost, I'm just gonna go ahead and grab this other stool and sit across you."

Liam laughed heartily and Louis was glad that Liam seemed much at ease with his jokes now.

Louis explained to Liam carefully how to start about with it. He even demonstrated a little by shaping the clay into a cylinder, then he let go and urged Liam to cup his hands around the clay. "Softly. Don't squeeze too hard or it'll fly everywhere." Liam was a very good student, pliant and determined to do it right.  

When Louis instructed Liam to put a finger in the middle to begin digging a hole, Liam did so perfectly. It was in the widening of the hole that he messed it up a bit and the cup he was molding was just about ready to deform when Louis placed both his hands on Liam's own to hold the shape of the clay.

"Lift your thumb," Louis said purposefully, to which Liam immediately and silently complied. "Slide this hand up a little. Careful." Liam followed. "Okay, now softly... your thumb over the rim. Don't squeeze too hard." Liam did as he was told. Louis grinned. "There, you see? You're doing it perfectly," he said as he removed his hands from Liam's.

Liam, smiling with self pride, lifted his head to look at Louis, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. And it distracted Liam enough that he didn't realize he was already clutching the clay in until Louis looked down at the plate and started chuckling.

"Oh no!" Liam exclaimed, trying to salvage his creation but making it worse instead, until the whole thing completely crumbled into the blob of clay it began with. His eyebrows pulled together and his lower lip jutted out, looking genuinely upset at what he'd done.

And Louis wanted--really, really wanted--to feel Liam's lips against his own. He shook his head to fend off that thought. "Hey," he said soothingly. "It's alright."

"I almost had it though," Liam muttered.

"You'll get it next time." Louis knew that Liam knew he was just being polite because they were both perfectly aware there really wasn't much of a next time; Liam is moving on to his next destination after tomorrow. 

Liam smiled and nodded appreciatively anyway; and just sighed.

"Do you have a camera? I'll take a picture of you right now. It's your first pottery lesson!"

Liam grinned, and there goes his eyes crinkling again, making Louis maybe swoon a little bit. "I got my mobile in my pocket. It's just--" he lifted his clay-covered hands and Louis got it.

Louis gestured for him to wait and proceeded to go to the sink on one side of the room. He washed his hands thoroughly, wiped the excess water off with his shirt and returned to Liam. After asking where it was, he casually just dipped his hand into Liam's pocket to retrieve the phone. He felt Liam tense a little bit at that move, especially when he sort of dragged the tips of his fingers against Liam's thighs. Louis smirked at this because he kind of did that on purpose just to tease Liam a little bit.

They left the factory soon after that. Louis hadn't realized that the sun was already setting and he needed to get back to the resort to ready and set up the bar for the night. The thing about the bar and restaurant at Kahuna is that even guests from neighboring resorts can come in and dine there. This is why even though the resort is not exactly fully booked, the restaurant is always filled with people during lunch and dinner--especially dinner. Louis always scoffed when Cathz would say that he's the reason why there are always so many people at night--it's when he tends the bar.

Louis apologized profusely at Liam because they couldn't go into town anymore and promised that they could go tomorrow instead. Liam assured him that it was fine and that he didn't have to go out of his way. "I can go to town tomorrow by myself. It's really alright." Louis would have none of it. He insisted on driving Liam into town and showing him around. Liam didn't really try protesting more than he already had, and Louis was glad.

\---

They parted at the entrance of the resort as Louis quickly made way to his room to get ready for work. After showering, he turned on his laptop, intending to check whether he's gotten e-mails or tweets or Facebook messages from his friends and family back home. His mum tagged him in Twitter to a picture of his twin little sisters in their bathing suits at a neighbor's backyard that had an above-ground pool. It was summer in the UK now.

He also got a notification from Paypal that his dad had sent him some money. Louis sighed. He keeps telling his dad to stop sending money because he was fine and he was living off the money he's making as an employee in the resort but the old man was stubborn and every month he'd wire Louis some money through Paypal.

Louis' dad is not his biological father. His mum and his biological father had divorced when he was very young and he barely remembers the man anymore. Louis grew up with his dad, who had adopted him so that he can legally use the Tomlinson family name. He loves his dad very much, as much as his dad loves him. Him and his mum are divorced now too, but that doesn't change anything between Louis and his dad.

He was most excited to see the next e-mail though. It's been almost three weeks since he'd heard anything from his friend who lives in Metro Manila. The boy usually just e-mails when he's feeling rather homesick or a bit down, but looking at the subject line of the e-mail, Louis thinks that maybe he's gotten a happy note today.

He looked at his watch and decided that he has time for one more e-mail.

*

To: surferlouis91@yahoo.com  
From: njhfootball@gmail.com  
Subject: I found someone prettier than you hahaha

Loueeeeeehhhhhhh !

I've met someone! Hahahahaha! He's hot! Like, oh my god! He's hot!

I met him at a charity event and just. well, yeah. Haha

He's Brit too! He's nice, you'd like him, I bet.

I don't know what else to say. Just wanted t share, man. Hahaha

Get back to me, ok. Tell me whats going on wit you

Miss you,  
Niall

*

Louis was grinning the entire time he was reading the short letter that Niall had sent him. He seemed so excited and happy about it. Louis wondered if it's anything serious. He thinks maybe it is, otherwise, why would Niall even bother telling him about it. And with so much enthusiasm; he practically raped the H and A keys.

Louis is extremely fond of Niall. He's like the brother he's always wanted. Except for the fact that they had sex once (they were both smashed from beer and weed, okay). And he's a weird sort, if the whole emailing thing is an indication. Like, who still emails? Niall, that's who. He doesn't care for chatting on Facebook and he absolutely abhors having long conversations on Twitter because, well, 140 characters. So, email.

Louis doesn't mind. It's one of Niall's weird quirks that he finds adorable. He hit back a quick reply before shutting down his laptop and bounding off for the night's work.

\---

He was mostly busy mixing drinks and chatting up people who sat on the bar, but every so often, he would scan the area looking for the boy whose eyes crinkle when he smiles. As the night grew deeper, the more disappointed Louis got. He was pretty sure he wouldn't miss it if Liam had gotten into the restaurant at all, which could only mean that Liam never did. He got a bit concerned that the guy hadn't had his dinner yet and he had the urge to go to Liam's room and check up on him.

Which was completely and utterly mental.

_Why would it be mental, though? He's a guest in the resort and our business is to make sure guests feel  at home and comfortable. It would make perfect sense if I went up there and knocked on his door and ask him if he's eaten anything because I'm working at the resort and I have to uphold the vision mission of this establishment. That's not creepy at all._

"Jesus christ, Lewis!"

Louis was pulled away from his thoughts by an exasperated Cathz making her way around the bar to get to him.

"You have four pending drinks waiting to be made and you're wiping that goddamn glass for the past ten minutes. Where's your head at?" Cathz sounded more annoyed than angry, actually.

"I... I'm sorry. I'll get on with it. Sorry." He fumbled to grab the first order slip that's probably been waiting there for god-knows-how-long and forced himself to focus on the cocktail (cocktails--slippery nipple and cosmopolitan) that was waiting to be mixed.

Cathz eyed him as he was grabbing the alcohol and juices that he needed to create the drinks. She just stood there watching! When Louis realized this, he felt a bit odd. After he rang the bell for the waitress to serve the drinks to the dining guests, he turned to Cathz and hissed, "What? I said I was sorry. I'm on it now, okay?"

She didn't even flinch; just stared at him for a bit and then lifted an eyebrow as she calmly explained, "He asked to have his dinner brought to his room. He was exhausted from today and wanted to get plenty of rest because apparently he has surfing lessons early in the morning."

Louis pulled back, eyebrows tightening towards each other. "I dont... Oh."

Cathz nodded, smug. "Just get back to work, please. Last call for mixed drinks at ten and I want you out of here by eleven, _kapish_?"

He nodded, still slightly taken aback. " _Kapish_."

Louis watched dumbly as she pirouetted and left him alone.

\---

He woke up at 4:30AM, when it was still dark outside. It didn't even seem accurate to say he woke up because he barely slept anyway. He was tired, for sure, but for some reason he was extremely restless. He didn't want to say 'excited' because why would he be excited to teach anybody to surf? He likes teaching and surfing, sure, but _why_  would he be excited to do it when he's done it hundreds of times before. He's not excited. Of course not.

Louis pulled on a pair of board shorts and a tattered wifebeater shirt before heading out to make himself some coffee. He shuddered when a gust of wind whipped at his entire body as soon as he stepped out of his room. For a moment he thought about going back in and grabbing a hoodie but he frowned and reprimanded himself, _don't be a pussy_. So, he bounded off to the kitchens stretching and jumping once in awhile to get his temperature up and fend off the cold.

He met a couple of the kitchen staff who're required to come in at 5AM to ready the buffet spread that the restaurant always offered for breakfast, which starts at 7AM. He chatted a bit with them while the coffee was brewing, but when he had gone out to sit on the tables, he was surprised to see Liam walking into the restaurant. He was in his board shorts and t-shirt, looking a bit sleepy but quite ready to head on out to the water.

"Wow, man. You're early," Louis greeted.

A corner of Liam's mouth quirked. "Am I? A bit excited and nervous, I guess."

Louis smiled and nodded. "Would you like some coffee first? Or tea?"

Laim asked for tea. 

Louis led him to a table with a view of the ocean, set his coffee down, asked Liam how he wanted his tea and then left for the kitchen. When Louis came back, he was holding a large cup with scalding hot water, teabag already steeping, on one hand and a small tray with two small containers filled with sugar and with milk on the other.

The conversation between them was easy. It was all technical, with Liam worrying at how big the waves are and Louis assuring him that they'll wait for the waves to die down a little before Liam goes in. Besides, there's still the matter of learning how to properly stand up on the board, and they have to do that on the beach before hitting the water. 

When they had both finished their cups and a sliver of sunlight was already showing on the horizon, Louis beckoned Liam to follow him to where the surf boards are kept so they could get theirs for the lesson. They pulled two long boards and journeyed down to the beach.

From afar, Louis saw the silhouette of a man, staring out into the ocean, next to a surf board that's partly buried in the sand so that its tip was facing the sky. He made his way to the man, glancing quickly to make sure that Liam was still with him. "Come on."

When they got close enough to the man, Louis called, "Luke!"

Luke turned to them and smiled. "'Sup, brah?"

"I want you meet Liam. He's from London."

"Hey, man," Luke nodded, not holding out for a handshake. 

Liam replied with a soft hi, raising awkwardly the hand that wasn't carrying the surf board.

"The waves are rad today, see? Angry and wild," Luke said calmly, but with a hint of excitement. Louis knew that it was meant to encourage and to entice, but this was Liam's first time to surf and Louis saw the flash of panic in the beginner's eyes.

"Not for Liam," Louis said. "We'll wait a bit more until the sun comes up and the waves are smaller."

There was understanding in the way Luke eyed Louis, and then Liam. The surfer grinned at the tourist and said, "My man Louis' the best instructor out here. You're in good hands, young Anakin."

Louis laughed. "Oh, so I'm Obi Wan? Then that makes you Yoda. And I believe your wave is calling you."

Luke turned to the horizon. "So it is." He grabbed his surf board and bolted into the water.

Louis watched Liam watch Luke in absolute awe. Unwittingly, Louis's lips formed into a smirk with pure fondness at how Liam's eyes sparkled against the rays of sunshine laboring to finally burst into the morning. He can see that the fear was sliding off of Liam and the excitement of riding the waves was beginning to ooze out of his pores. He clapped Liam's shoulder to get his attention. "Come on, let's have you learn how to stand."

\---

As it was with the pottery lesson, Liam was attentive and gave full effort in learning to surf--or rather, stand. Louis was insistent about the proper way of standing and he made Liam repeat the move over and over until he was satisfied. The sky was already bright when he decided it was time to get into the water.

Watching Liam ruck up his shirt and pull it over his head was an experience in itself. Louis felt like a creeper just staring as he did--and honestly he tried to look away. He did. He tried so hard. But his damn body just wouldn't follow what his head was screaming for it to do. What's even more stupid was the way he was seeing it in slow motion. Seriously, how weird is that? That's never happened to him before.

Liam had an incredible body. The muscles on his arms were shaped perfectly, and Louis guessed that he must be doing some heavy lifting back home, whether for work or in the gym. His abdomen was rippled with square boxes that was certainly a product of some serious sit-ups because peoplendon't get packs like those out of luck. Liam seemed like someone who was conscious of his health and his body, and Louis admired that.

He snapped out of his trance soon enough before going into the water. The last thing he wanted was to get distracted and ultimately drown himself because his cock was being a bitch and twitching in his shorts.

Liam did very well for his first time. Granted, he'd fallen into the water quite a number of times at first, but eventually he was able to ride a full wave. The way he beamed brought butterflies to Louis' stomach. Liam had such an effect on him that he couldn't even put a finger on.

Underneath the shower, after he and Liam had agreed to meet up again after an hour for a day out in  town, he couldn't help images of Liam from flashing into his head. With warm water jetting against his back, as if it had a mind of its own, his soapy hand wrapped around his semi and began to slowly stroke.

His eyes fluttered close and a hazy picture of Liam's arms flexing as he lifted himself onto his board materialized. Louis' grip around his cock tightened and his stroking became fiercer. When he was reminded of how Liam stretched his hands up to the heavens and the muscles on his back flexed, the pace of his hand's movement quickened. When he remembered Liam happily wrapping an arm around his neck as they walked up the beach back to the resort and his face was so close to Liam's that he could smell the salt that was sticking to the other boy's skin as the breeze slowly dried off the water from their bodies, he just couldn't--

_Fuck!_

Louis stared at the splatter of come he created on his shower wall, breathing heavily and trying to steady his wobbling knees. _God that felt good._  And he needed that if he was going to be in close proximity of Liam for the rest of the day because it would be such a mad inconvenience to keep having sexual thoughts about their guest when he was trying to be a proper and cordial host.

As he grabbed the handheld shower and rained over the mess on the wall, he sighed and thought if maybe he should just go for it and make a pass at Liam, principles be damned. But even then, even if he defied his own principles, he was still reluctant to initiate anything. He likes Liam way too much. What if Liam rejected him? He's not sure he can handle that. Even though Liam was leaving the next day, he'd still feel like crap long after Liam was gone. That's just how he is--when he gets hurt, he really gets hurt; and that's probably why he has that no-first-move principle thing. He'd never admit that to himself though.


	6. 5. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a damn long while to write. Hope it's good enough.

The Sun -- Latest News  
Breaking: _Rippage_ Raided by Police

LONDON--One of London's poshest, swankiest and most happening clubs, _Rippage_ , has been raided by the police at quarter past midnight on Saturday. The police were able to obtain a search warrant after  verified reports have surfaced that the club sells the illegal drug methamphetamine to its patrons. A total of 32 people have been arrested from the raid, which included the manager, several staff members and guests who were caught in the act of using said substance. The police, as well as the owners of _Rippage_ , have yet to make further comment on the matter.

Many celebrities and socialites frequent _Rippage_ , including pop star Rita Ora, The Wanted's Tom Parker, actress Mischa Barton, and socialite Harry Styles, who is the only son of the celebrated Baron Desmond Styles. The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge had also partied in the club prior to getting married.

_Rippage_ has been in operation since 2005.

\---

Harry looked out the window as the airplane lifted from the ground. He's never felt calmer in all his life. He'd already forced the week's events from his mind the moment he stepped into the plane.

\---

One of the clubs he usually parties at had been raided by the police for supplying illegal drugs (which was very true, as he had actually been offered by one of the managers before). Luck was on his side when he made a last minute decision to go to another club on the night of the raid.

And, it wouldn't have been a big deal, really; except that The Sun decided to name drop him as a regular--pulling in his father's name, as well. _Fuckers_. The day after the news came out, his mother came barging into his flat doing a mad litany about embarrassing his father's name and what-if-you-had-been-there and you-party-too-much and it-could-have-been-you. It was the most ridiculous thing his mother has ever done because he actually did nothing! He would have screamed at his mother had he not have the sense to quietly bring himself into the bathroom and lock himself there until he was thinking straight enough to not let his mother get on his nerves.

His mother dragged him to a family meeting with her, his father and his sister. In his dad's office, everyone had been calm as they discussed this _Rippage_ matter; that is, except his mother, who was hysterical and ended up shrieking every time she opened her mouth. In the end, everyone agreed that Harry should disappear from the scene for awhile--nay, he should disappear from London for awhile--at least until things cool down a little bit and people forgot that Harry's name was ever mentioned in the same breath as the disgraced club.

His father concluded, "I'll have Miranda make the arrangements for New York. She'll--"

"No!" his mother interrupted. "No, not New York. No. We're trying to get him away from the public eye, and you put him in New York? Are you deliberately leading him to the paps?"

Harry actually saw his father roll his eyes. Out of habit, he glanced at his sister who was already looking at him and pursing her lips to keep from laughing. Harry and his older sister Gemma have always been very close. They're only a year a part and that probably helped to cement their bond. But where Harry is the carefree and lazy son, Gemma was the responsible and hardworking daughter. It annoyed him immensely everytime his mother would insert in her speeches the classic "why won't you be like your sister" line, but he could never take it against Gemma. He could never take anything against Gemma. To Harry, Gemma was perfect. And anyway, he agreed that if he should strive to be like someone, it most definitely ought to be Gemma.

His father sighed heavily. "Very well. Australia, it is. Miran--"

His mother scoffed. "As if that's any better."

His father glared at his mother and gritted, "Where do you suggested we send him, then?"

His mother's eyebrow shot up and waved a hand dismissively. "How should I know. You're the one with the connections."

"Anne," his father said darkly. It was obvious that the man's patience was wearing thin.

At this point, Gemma cleared her throat to try and ease the tension that was already brewing. "A month ago, my professor in macroeconomics was appointed by the Prime Minister as commercial attache in Asia. I received an email from him recently offering me a job as a member of his contingent."

Harry saw the moment his parents' annoyance made way for the proud smiles he's only ever seen directed at Gemma.

His mother quickly shot both arms forward as she walked from where she had been standing by the fireplace towards his sister . "Oh sweetheart, that's wonderful news!" his mother said as she pulled Gemma up from her seat to squeeze her into a tight hug. "I'm so very proud of you."

Gemma smiled and fell into the embrace, mumbling, "Thanks, mum."

"Why hadn't you said something, baby girl?" his father asked. He was already there next to the two ladies, waiting for his turn to hug his daughter.

Gemma wrapped her arms around the wide waist of his father as she answered, "I didn't know if I wanted to accept it yet."

His father gave Gemma a peck on the top of her head before pulling away with his hands firmly on her shoulders. "And now you've decided to go?"

"Well," she began. Her gaze fell on Harry, who had been smiling quietly during the whole exchange from the chair in front of his father's large mahogany table. "I was thinking if maybe Harry could check it out for me first. Since he needed to be away somewhere anyway. Perhaps he wouldn't mind."

His parents turned to Harry with tentative looks about them. Harry simply shrugged. 

His mother was the first to break the silence. "Asia. I suppose it's not a bad idea." She looked to her ex-husband, silently asking for his input.

His father affirmed his consent with a soft, "Suppose not." He turned to Gemma. "Which city?"

"Makati. In the Philippines."

\---

The direct flight he was put on from London to Manila wasn't full. At least not in the first class cabin. Harry was thankful that the seat beside him was empty; he wasn't in the mood for a chat should his next-chair neighbor recognize him. Although, there was this one woman who did a double take at him on her way to the loo. She obviously knew who he was, but thank heavens she hadn't done anything more than flash him a grin (which he returned because he was brought up to be polite).

Harry browsed through Google at the results of his generic search words like "Philippines" and "what to do in the Philippines" and "clubs in Makati". He also found himself scanning through a long article in Wikipedia about the country. Everything had already been arranged for him, of course. He just thought that he should maybe at least have a bit of an overview of where he was going.

Not that he and Gemma didn't already do a bit of that when she came to him one day with the news about the email from her former professor at university. The email had been their own little secret until about ten days later when Gemma had to tell their parents about it for Harry's sake.

When Gemma had told him that it was in the Philippines, Harry's ears instantly perked. And he didn't even have to say anything because Gemma already knew. _That_ was where Niall was.

Gemma's always known about Niall and how he truly felt about the Irishman. She was the only one who knew, in fact. Harry couldn't trust anyone else with that information. He couldn't even trust Niall with that information. He was too afraid of what Niall would think. What if Niall didn't feel the same way? What if he said it out loud and Niall decided it was best that they didn't see each other anymore? Or worse, not talk to each other anymore? Harry wouldn't know what to do. No, he couldn't risk it.

Harry had never had anyone he allowed to get close to him. Growing up, he'd only ever needed Gemma. But then he met Niall; and he was all laughter and happiness that Harry found himself getting addicted gradually. He couldn't even tell the exact day when he fell. But he knew it had happened after numerous sexual exploits had already taken place between them. 

Perhaps he's always known that having sex with a boy you considered your best mate wouldn't really end up somewhere good. Sure, it was an accident the first time they did it. They had both gotten smashed in Niall's flat when Harry brought a very aged and expensive wine he grabbed from the cellar of his stepfather's mansion after a fight with his mother, and they were already in Niall's bed anyway because there was nowhere else to be in his cramped studio-type abode. So yeah. Sex.

He _allowed_ Niall to fuck him that night. Because that's Harry Styles' deal. He's a slag, but his hole is sacred. He's had one boy enter him when he was fifteen and that didn't turn out very well for him. That stupid boy was too rough and it had hurt Harry so much that he had regretted it afterwards. But on his first night with Niall, Niall had whispered in his ear, practically begging Harry to let him fuck him. Niall had promised to be gentle and Harry had believed him. Niall had made good with that promise. Since then, nobody's ever been inside him but Niall.

But Harry never thought he would actually feel anything beyond a platonic bond with Niall. After all, they're not exclusive. In fact, it was Harry who had spelled that out to Niall because Harry was an insatiable beast (his words). There were far too many fit men in London (and everywhere else he finds himself at) to be chained to just one cock. And besides, he really did like boobs and vaginas. Harry liked hearing women's slutty moans when his tongue fiddles with their button.

And when Niall became serious with this girl named Holly, it was even Harry who laid down the law that they were to stop doing anything because fooling around with each other meant that Niall was cheating on this girl. Harry would never want that for Niall. He didn't want Niall to be the bad guy. He just wanted Niall to be happy.

And when Niall came calling because he and Holly had broken up, Harry was there in a flash. And he was holding Niall and kissing his tears away. Harry hadn't thought his heart bled so hard before as it did that night, seeing Niall so down and broken. He hadn't thought he could feel so much empathy for another person; and it was then that he had known that Niall was special. He just hadn't really thought how truly special the blonde was to him.

But now it's too late. Harry was far too gone. He thought that he probably didn't stand a chance anyway, even if he had a clue that he was already falling.

Harry confessed to Gemma about it one random night when he was in Manchester visiting with her at university. They were having dinner at his favorite restaurant in the city, Rosso's, when he told her that he thinks he was maybe in love with Niall. And they discussed it like one of Gemma's case studies in her sociology class. She wasn't unsupportive of it, but she wasn't exactly jumping for joy etiher.

Even then, no one can accuse Gemma of being a terrible sister. She was a ready ear when Harry needed one to listen to his rants about his stupid jealousy over Niall flirting with other people while they were out clubbing. Or when he was gushing about something thoughtful Niall did for him. Or when he was ridiculously sobbing because he missed Niall so, so much.

Gemma had suggested to Harry that he should come to the Philippines with her when she was to take the job (because of course she was going to take the job), and Harry didn't even think twice before he eagerly said yes to it. The thing of it though was that Gemma had to finish her dissertation first before she could leave, so Harry had to wait until the end of Summer.

He figured, the entire _Rippage_ kerfuffle might just have been a blessing in disguise, because here he was on a plane to a country he's never really heard of before, six weeks ahead of schedule. And he's got Gemma to thank for that.

Harry had been told by Miranda, his father's Executive Assistant, that he was to have his own assistant to be provided by the British Embassy, with whom he can ask for anything that he might need while he was alone in the country. His flat--excuse him, _condo unit_ \--has already been prepared and is now ready for his use. He was already missing his own bed so he was hoping this new home will have a very comfortable one. But truth be told, he wouldn't even care to notice as long as Niall was on it with him.

"Mr. Styles," said a sweet voice, soft and inviting.

Harry turned to find himself faced with a smiling air hostess, slightly bent so that she may address him without disturbing the other passengers. She was lovely, with her light brown eyes and deep dark red hair tied to an intricate bun and her long legs confined in a tight-fitting skirt that ended just a little bit above her knees. He was sure she was older than him by at least four or five years.

"Would you like another glass of champagne?" she asked.

He thought for a moment before answering, "d'you know what? I think I'll have scotch. On the rocks."

She nodded, her smile never leaving her lips. "Is there anything else you'd like to have?" As she asked this, the fingertips of her right hand gently fondled the knot of the scarf around her neck, and Harry's eyes couldn't help but stare at the action. He froze for a moment, following with his eyes as her hand delicately traveled down her front, past the swell of her chest, down to where her navel should be and settling her palm on her lower abdomen, just above the slit that Harry was all too familiar with.

_Well._

Harry smirked before looking up at her, and winked. "Not this time, no. But I'm certain to call for you should I need anything else."

She seemed satisfied by this. She nodded and told him she'll be right back with his drink before finally turning away. Harry wondered where in the plane he could maybe fuck her brains out discreetly, or at least get a proper blow job. The loo? He's never done it in a plane before.

\---

Harry was welcomed at the arrival area of the airport in Manila by the cutest little lady he's ever seen. She was short, like, really short--maybe 4'10? 4'11? And she would have looked like a child with her black hair in a bob, almost Dora The Explorer style, were it not for the stern expression she held on her face. It showed she meant business; and Harry wouldn't be surprised if she was adverse to the whole idea of being his "assistant" because even he knew that it was just a euphemism for "nanny."

Her name is Ida (Ee-duh), a Filipina who's been with the British Embassy for six years working as one of its liason officers. And, every time she spoke Harry felt inclined to shut his trap for fear of being hit with a ruler that he wouldn't be surprised she'd pull from thin air. Yep, he was a bit frightened of her. For the bigger part of the car ride to his condo, Ida spoke and Harry quietly nodded. He found the whole briefing situation slightly ridiculous, to be honest. He wasn't there on official duty or whatever. He was just there to get away from the craziness in the UK right now (and more importantly, be with Niall). At best, he was simply on vacation.

He noticed that they traversed chaotically busy roads on the way to his new place. Many of the structures he saw were old and rusted. There was this part where everything was just extremely frantic--buses and people crowded on the side streets and there were vendors on the sidewalks, it seemed. Ida said that it was because they were in front of a church called Bucklarun (Harry would later learn it's actually spelled Baclaran). She said that there are many devotees that come to pray in that particular church, especially on Wednesdays. It wasn't a Wednesday though, Harry thought. But... wait.

"Is it a Wednesday today?" Harry asked.

For the first time, Ida cracked a smile. She nodded.

Harry breathed a soft oh and returned to stare out the window. He'd completely lost track of time. He just only realized that there's a substantial time difference between the Philippines and the UK. The thought of jetlag suddenly crossed his mind. He didn't feel jetlagged for some reason.

And then, the scenery began to change. From old worn down buildings, skyscrapers came into view. The roads seemed wider. Cleaner. People walking on the sidewalks disappeared to entrances of an underground tunnel of sorts. Harry thought it could be the subway, but Ida said that there are no subways in the Philippines. The people are just going into an underground tunnel to get to the other side of the road because pedestrians are not allowed to cross that particular street.

Ida explained that they were in the Central Business District of Makati now, and the road they were on was called Ayala Avenue. It was supposedly iconic because it was one of the sites where the People Power Revolution in 1986 started. She pointed to a monument on the other side of the road when they passed it and said that that was the place where speeches had been made during the time. The long road was lined with building after building of offices. Big businesses tend to set up there because it's a prime location and practically the center of commercial trade in the country. That's the same reason why the British Embassy takes up its offices in one of the buildings in that road.

Finally, the car stopped in front of a low rise building, not more than four storeys high. A man in a uniform--the door man--came forth to open the cardoor for Harry. When he entered the lobby, following behind Ida, the level of sophistication became apparent. The waiting area was a set of stuffed couches and chairs and the ceilings were lighted with chandeliers. He almost felt like he was in a hotel even.

Ida guided him towards the elevator on the way to his unit, with a bellboy lugging all his belongings behind them. "This is a serviced residence. So if you need anything, you can just call the front desk."

"Oh, alright. Is there no kitchen in my flat?" Harry inquired.

"There is," Ida replied. "It's complete with all the basic appliances too. But if you want anything else, you can just give me a call and we can have that delivered to your condo."

_Condo. Right. Not flat. Condo._

The elevator doors opened on the third floor. The hall was carpeted and there were only about six doors  tacked with "3" and a different letter on each of them. They stopped in front of the one that read 3D. Ida inserted two keys in two keyholes before the door finally swung open. Harry took one look inside and thought, sick!

"Here," Ida said as she handed him an iPhone, which he suspected was the local number he was going to use while he was in the country. "My number is already there, as well as the Embassy's. I've also taken the liberty of punching in the number of the front desk; it's named 'Residences'. You've met Joel awhile ago, he'll be your on-call driver. So his number is also in there. I've also put your local number there as two zeroes in case you were wondering."

"Thanks."

There was a silence that lingered for a bit; it wasn't awkward per se, but it wasn't comfortable either. "Well, listen," Ida began. "You could probably use the rest, so I'll leave you alone. I'll come by tomorrow at noon and we can talk more about your stay here over lunch."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

As soon as he'd closed the door behind Ida, the first thing he did was pull out his own mobile and searched for Niall's local number and copied it to the iPhone Ida had given him. He toed off his shoes and removed all of his clothings until he was left with just his boxers. He jumped on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment, clutching his new mobile, pondering if he ought to call Niall now.

Niall didn't know that he was coming. Harry wanted to surprise him. When they Skype'd or BBM'ed, Harry would always say he was going to get a plane ticket to the Philippines and be with Niall but the Irish would only laugh. It wasn't insulting or hurtful to Harry because he simply knew that Niall knew him well enough to know that all he really does is complain and say things that he would do but end up not really doing them. And really, until recently, Harry never seriously thought he would follow Niall to the Philippines. But then the longing just grew into a nagging pain that he could barely shake off. He just needed to hold Niall again. Even for a little while. Then he'd be fine.

Six months had been a  long enough wait, he decided. So he tapped _call_ on Niall's contact name. It rang four times before it was finally picked up. "Yel-low," said the boy on the other end of the line in the cheeky way that only he can do. Harry couldn't help the corners of his lips from quirking, giddy and contented at hearing Niall's voice again since they last spoke on Viber five days ago.

"Hey, Niall," Harry greeted calmly, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Hey, man! Who's this?" Still happy and friendly despite his confusion and curiosity.

Harry laughed inwardly and teased, "You've forgotten the sound of my voice? I'm quite hurt."

Pause.

"Ha--Harry?"

Harry chuckled at the obvious shock in Niall's voice.

"But... You... Is this a joke? This number is..."

Harry imagined that Niall kept pulling his mobile from his ear to check on the screen. "It's local, Niall."

"How-- Is this really Harry? Is sum'n codding me?"

Harry laughed uninhibitedly. "Niall! It's me! Thought you'd be happy to hear me. Haven't spoken in awhile have we?"

"I'm happy! 'Course I'm happy! But this is... this is really Harry, righ'?"

"What, you want me to prove it? my deep and sexy voice isn't enough for you?"

Niall roared a distant thunderous laugh, obviously having pulled away the mobile from his mouth. "Okay. Okay," he said in between breaths. "I believe ya." Harry grinned. "But what're ya... how... are you saying you're here? Yer actually here?"

"Yep."

"Oh my ghad, Harry!"

"Surprised?" Harry asked, still grinning like a mad man.

"Fuck yeh! Are ya joking? Didn't think ya had it in you."

Harry's face fell slightly. "But, it's a good surprise, yeah?"

"Wha--'course babe. Why wouldn't it be?"

That was good enough for Harry and he was beaming again. They talked for a bit before he asked Niall to come over and stay with him for the night. Niall, of course, was quick to oblige. Over an hour later, Harry's house phone rang. It was the lady at the front desk and she was informing him that a Mr. Niall Horan was there to see him. After several minutes, there was buzzing coming from the door and Harry practically dashed to open it.

"Haz!" Niall wore that huge grin on his face that rounded his cheekbones and bared all his teeth; that grin Harry's been craving to see in person for months on end. He almost can't believe it was right in front of him now.

"Niall," he breathed, but it has gone unnoticed as the Irish pushed his way past Harry into the condo.

Niall whistled as he looked around. "Goddamn, Harold! This place is sick! Bet ya got a huge tub too, don't ya? Wouldn't mind a nice--mmph"

Harry was a very polite and courteous boy, he'd been taught by his mother very well that when someone is speaking, Harry should not interrupt and let them finish. But she said that if it was really important then it's alright to interrupt. Well, having Harry's lips on Niall was really important, so.

It took a millisecond for Niall to get over the shock of his impulsiveness. He knew that Niall gets it, the longing and the neediness of touching the one you want to touch. Harry felt that Niall had been missing him too. It was obvious in the way that Niall had dropped his bag instantly and snaked his hands to his back and behind his neck to pull him closer; in the way Niall forced his tongue inside Harry's mouth licking and tasting as much as he can; in the way Niall ground his hips forward against Harry's to let him know how hard he's gotten in the past few minutes.

"You smell so fucking good," Niall murmured as he nudged his nose at the side of Harry's neck, inhaling deeply and planting wet kisses on bare skin. Harry moaned in reply; it was all he could do, really. But then a rumbling against his chest had his eyes fluttering open. Niall was giggling against the crook of his neck.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I jus' realized tha' you're naked," Niall said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. There was that obnoxious smirk Niall wore when he's being a twat and taunting Harry.

Harry felt the heat rise up to his cheeks. "I'm not completely naked. Still got my boxers on."

Niall's hands travelled down his back, cupping his arse cheeks and squeezing them once. "Can't wait to jump on my dick, are ya?"

Harry grabbed Niall's wrists and freed himself from his clutch. "Please," he spat in an attempt to sound nonchalant as he walked towards the bedroom, "you wish."

He was pulled back against a hard chest before he crossed the bedroom entrance, Niall's hands firmly gripping at his sides as muscled arms completely wrapped around him. Harry realized that Niall had filled out. He didn't remember the boy being this muscular nor did he remember this ball of sunshine to be as strong. 

Niall hooked his chin on Harry's shoulder after giving him a wet peck on the jaw. "I do," Niall said casually. "I wish that."

Harry smiled. "Okay. Me too."

Niall chuckled. "I figured. So ya missed me?"

Harry leaned back, relaxing into Niall's embrace. "Why would I be here if I didn't?"

Niall pulled away and bellowed a laughter that Harry was sure his neighbors would have heard. "Don't think I didn't know about that Rippage scandal."

Harry turned to look at Niall and crossed his arms. "You knew I was coming?"

Niall shook his head, grabbing Harry by the waist and pulling him in. Harry, for his part, responded by putting one hand on Niall's shoulder and the other at the back of his neck, gently rubbing the soft hairs there. "Nah. Just took a guess as to why yer here. Was I wrong?"

"Mmm. Not completely." Niall shot him a tentative look, so he continued. "I could've gone to anywhere in the world, you know. But I chose to come here."

Niall beamed at this and Harry felt like a fucking school girl melting at the sight of her crush smiling her way.

"Ya really missed yer best mate, yeh?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're my only mate."

Niall laughed. "Now I know for a fact that's not true! I'm yer only mate you fuck around with maybe." Harry only grinned.

Niall wasn't wrong. Harry doesn't have friends that he fucks. Whatever friends he does have are purely platonic and still requires him to keep his guard up. Niall was the only one like this. He was the only one Harry allowed in--literally and figuratively. And it should be awkward, Harry always thought. But it wasn't. It never have been.

Niall leaned in again and kissed Harry properly. It was less messy this time; Niall's tongue gently moving against Harry's, licking and nipping at Harry's plump upper lip every so often. He always had a thing about Harry's upper lip. He said because it was full and perfect and he wanted to see it cherry red all the time.

Harry whimpered against Niall's mouth. He missed this--the way Niall kissed him. Because it was only Niall who kissed him like this. No other fit bloke or bird in the city of London could compare. No one ever did. And Harry was pretty sure no one ever will.

"Gahd, I missed this pretty mouth o' yers," Niall breathed against Harry's swollen lips when he pulled just slightly away. Niall, then, peeled himself off Harry and went back to get his duffel bag by the entrance of the condo. "So," he began conversationally. "Was I right about the tub? Is it huge?"

"Oh, um." Harry watched as Niall got into the bedroom to dump his bag there, hearing the Irish exclaim _sweet jeezus fuck! This room is fucking sick!_  Harry stood by the door, looking in. 

"Is this bed..." Niall paused, plopping his back onto the mattress, his arms and legs stretched in all directions. "Oh my gaahhhhdddd! I'm in bed heaven!" And then he moved his limbs as if he was making snow angels.

Harry laughed. "Haven't looked around yet, but I'll check the bathroom and see what I got there."

"I bet it's the size of a lake," Harry heard Niall call as he made his way to the bathroom.

It wasn't anywhere near the size of a lake, but it was a big round tub. Harry has the same tub at his flat in London--the one that created bubbles and rippled gentle waves to ease muscle tension. He switched the faucet on to begin filling it up before scanning the room for bath salts. He grabbed the jar as soon as he saw it and sprinkled some on the tub. He turned on the switch that caused jets of water from the walls and the floor of the tub to stream in and create bubbles in the water. He dipped a hand in and approved the temperature.

Harry turned to the door to call for Niall but the boy was already by the door, a gentle smirk on his face, watching Harry, and wearing absolutely nothing. Harry's eyes were pulled towards the semi Niall was sporting and he labored to gulp as his throat seemed to have suddenly gone dry.

Niall walked over to Harry, who was willing himself not to faint at the sight of Niall in his birthday suit. _God, he looks hot. The Philippines has been good to him._  Harry didn't think it was possible to develop this much muscle in a span of six months, but here was Niall, arms and thighs completely ripped, abs on the way to a clear six pack.

"Ooh, bubbles," Niall chimed when he got close enough to see the inside of the tub. Harry laughed.

"Go ahead," Harry encouraged, gesturing for Niall to get in. "I'll see about food."

Niall's neck practically snapped as he turn at Harry. "What? No. Get in here with me."

It wasn't like Harry was going to argue otherwise. So, he took off his boxers and got into the tub.

They sat across each other for awhile, leaning back against the edges and feeling the jettison of bubbles calming their nerves. They spoke about the how-are's and the when-will's and the why-the's until the basics have all been covered and there was nothing left much to say for now. But there was still so much to do.

"Yer too far away," Niall said, one foot moving up and down the side of Harry's leg under the water.

Harry smirked. "Come here, then."

Niall's eyebrow shot up. "I am here. Travelled by train, din' I?"

"Travelled by plane."

Niall laughed. "Right. You win." He pushed himself off the edge and waded forward, falling gently on Harry, straddling the younger boy's lap. It wasn't really possible to grind their pelvises together, with Niall's knees hitting the walls of the tub way before their cocks even touched. There was enough space to sit steadily on Harry's lap, however.

"Thought ya missed me," Niall said, as he kissed Harry along the jawline. "Why're ya being a tease, huh?"

Harry's hands were on Niall's hips as soon as he was on top of him, rubbing gently at the skin there. "I'm not. Just tired from the flight, is all."

Niall froze, his lips steady on the part of Harry's neck where he was sucking to form a bruise. "Oh." He pulled back to face Harry. "Well, I guess ya oughta rest then." Niall carefully got off Harry's lap to stand, effectively sloshing the water about.

It didn't register quickly enough on Harry what Niall was doing, and the next thing he knew, Niall was already out of the tub, grabbing a towel hung on a bar. "What--" Harry said while he watched Niall wrap the towel around his waist. "No, Niall."

"'S fine, babe," Niall said with a smile. He started off back into the bedroom, calling, "I'll get me kit on and buy us some food across the street. There's a McDonald's nearby. Or d'ya want some kinda salad or what-not?"

Harry scrambled to get out of the tub, not caring about all the water that splattered on the bathroom floor. "I'm not hungry," was what came out of his mouth as soon as he was through the door. Niall was still in the towel, digging through his bag that was on the bed. "Niall, don't."

Niall finally spared a look at Harry, knotting his eyebrows at a naked and wet Harry soaking the carpeted floor.  "Haz, what the--"

Harry flung himself at Niall and wrapped his arms around his neck. "Don't go."

Niall chuckled but he wrapped his arms around Harry's middle anyway. "I'll jus' be a mo. Why'd ya get out'a the tub?"

"I didn't mean that," Harry mumbled against Niall's neck. He sounded so pathetic and desperate, it was  embarrassing. But he didn't care because he really was desperate. Desperate to have Niall. Desperate to be touched by Niall.

The Irish must have sensed something amiss in the younger lad's voice because his own voice had gone softer. "Hey, hey. Wha'sa matter?"

"M'not tired. I didn't mean that. Don't leave."

"Christ, Harry. I'll jus' buy us some food. I'll be righ' back."

"Don't want you to go," Harry whined.

Niall laughed quietly. "Alrigh'. Now get off me, can't breathe."

Harry's grasp loosened, but he wasn't going to let go of Niall just yet. He was going to make sure Niall understood exactly what he wanted. He waited six fucking months to be able to touch Niall, to kiss him, to hold him. He waited six fucking months to taste Niall again. He's waited for far too long already.

Harry dropped to his knees and dove his face into Niall's crotch, nosing against the clean towel that covered it, wrapping his hands on the globes of Niall's arse.

Niall gasped.

Harry nudged against the fabric gently but firmly with his face, willing Niall's cock to respond. It did. Harry grinned at the feel of the hard line against his nose. He tilted his head to the side and caught the girth of Niall's standing cock between his teeth through the towel. "Oh shit," Niall groaned, his hands finding their way to Harry's wet curls.

Harry removed his mouth from the towel, just far enough to allow it to drop to the floor when he pulled it off Niall's waist. He replaced his nose to the bare cock in front of him, taking in the smell of lavander that clung to Niall's skin from the bath salts. Harry breathed hotly at Niall's cock, an action that elicited a moan from the boy standing over him.

Niall stroked a hand against Harry's forehead to remove the damp hair sticking there. Harry took this as a sign to look up. True enough, Niall's blues clashed against his own greens. "You smell so good, Niall."

The blonde boy had a soft smile trained on Harry. His thumb gently tracing the bone on the younger boy's right cheek.

Harry returned to Niall's cock; wrapped the shaft in one large hand, while the other scooped Niall's balls, gently kneading them against each other. He licked his lips to full wetness before kissing at the base; and as soon as his mouth was on Niall, another moan came floating from above him.

Both hands worked firmly but slowly on Niall, allowing his mouth and tongue to taste the parts where his hands weren't covering. Harry has learned over time how much Niall loved this. Well, hate-loved this. Niall hated how steady Harry's hands were, bringing him over the edge in that agonizingly slow pace. Niall hated how he could only feel Harry's wet mouth on that small area of his cock. But Niall loved everything else that came after this initial torture. 

When Niall started leaking precum, caught by the foreskin and onto Harry's hand, he began to pump more forcibly, twisting and grazing his thumb over the swollen slit every now and then. Niall hissed at the action and jerked his hips forward.

Harry looked up and was met once again with Niall staring down at him. Niall was all pink and flushed, chest heaving. Niall licked his lips and nodded ever so slightly. "Lemme feel your mouth, babe," he whispered, tracing the corner of Harry's mouth with a thumb.

Without breaking eye contact, Harry brought the head of Niall's cock to his lips. He pursed his lips and kissed the tip gently, allowing the precum to cling to them. He parted his mouth slightly and engulfed the head. Niall broke their staring contest when his eyes fluttered closed at the feel of Harry's hot mouth, sighing as he did.

Harry sucked on the head of Niall's cock like he would a lolly--hard and noisy with obnoxious smacking sounds. He felt hands on the back of his head, stroking his hair gently. Soon enough, he felt Niall encourage him to go deeper. He did.

He flattened his tongue as he took more of Niall's length in his mouth. "Jeezus, fuck," Niall cursed at the feeling of Harry's tongue gliding on the underside of his cock. Harry was horny as hell, his own cock hard against his belly, but he was oh-so happy to be kneeling in front of Niall, having Niall's cock in his mouth, hearing Niall make those lust-filled sounds because of him, for him.

Harry sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks each time he pulled back. Swirling his tongue at the tip every now and then. The tightening of Niall's grip on his hair, coupled with the alternate moaning and cursing, was indication that he was doing good. All he wanted was to do good for Niall. Make Niall feel good.

"'m close, babe," Niall warned.

He nodded, sucking again on the head, before he started pumping his hand furiously up and down the shaft, mouth ready and waiting. He felt Niall's cock twitch in his hand and he quickly slid as much as he could into his mouth again.

"Fuck, Harry!" Niall roared as runnel after runnel of his release filled Harry's mouth, the younger boy straining but succeeding in swallowing every bit of Niall's come.

Harry was steady, unmoving as Niall jerked his hips forward, pushing more of his cock into Harry's mouth. Harry let him because it was good for him too.

Niall pulled Harry gently away from him once he's spent and empty. He fell sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily. He chanced a look at Harry, who was still on the floor, sitting on his calves and just waiting. "Com'ere," he beckoned and Harry obliged. Niall kissed Harry passionately, as he always did after every blowjob. Harry figured that maybe Niall liked tasting his own spunk on another person's mouth.

"Yer a fucking legend, ya know that?" Niall said with a lazy smile. "Coulda done me an extra favor by allowing me to sit down first, though."

Harry giggled. "Sorry. Couldn't wait."

At this point, Niall noticed that Harry has his own cock in his hands. "Lay down, baby."

Harry's stomach flipped at the petname. Niall calls him _babe_ or _love_ all the time, but he only ever got _baby_ when they were in bed. Niall never explained why this is so because Harry never asked. It already seemed ridiculous to even notice the difference, he wasn't going to freak Niall out by asking why. But Harry, in moments of tired bliss, while his head rested on Niall's chest after sex, enveloped in the boy's warm embrace, would think about little things like this, and he would find meaning to them.

For this one, Harry concluded that it was because in bed Niall saw him as someone to be taken care of. Whether it was so or not, only Niall could confirm. But Harry noticed it every time. How Niall would make sure he was properly stretched before replacing his fingers with his cock. How Niall would pepper him with kisses and whisper calming words to him during the initial burn and awkward feeling of being full. How Niall would lull him to sleep and stroke his hair after they were both satisfied. The whole ordeal always made Harry want to cry, both from the happiness and the pain that Niall has unwittingly given to his heart.

Harry crawled onto the bed and laid on his back. Niall pulled a tube out of his duffel bag before putting it down on the floor. He watched as Niall grab the pillow that was not under his head and place it underneath him, so that his arse was angled upward.

"Gonna finger ya good. Ya like tha'?"

Harry whimpered and nodded. His hole was already contracting excitedly.

Niall flipped open the lid of the tube and coated the fingers of his left hand with the slippery substance. "When's the last time ya got poked 'ere, huh?" Niall asked in a manner that a doctor would a patient before a procedure.

"S--six months?"

Niall stopped and looked at Harry.

"Give or take?" Harry added sheepishly.

"Wait, but was it..."

Harry nodded. "You? Yeah."

"Christ," Niall exhaled. He crawled up to give Harry a lingering wet kiss. "Shit, baby, I'll make this so good for ya, aight?" Harry simply bobbed his head a couple of times to show that he understood. He didn't doubt it. Niall always made it good.

Niall slid down his body, kissing and licking him on random spots of his chest and abdomen. Niall took his length with a dry hand and engulfed the head without warning. Harry couldn't help arching his back and releasing a wanton moan, lifting a hand to gently grab at the blonde hair below him. If this is all he's ever going to get from Niall today, it would still be worth the long wait. Niall's mouth was perfect on his cock.

Niall swirled his tongue on the tip before lowering his mouth to take more of Harry. Niall was good at this. It was one of his gifts, even. Niall doesn't have a gag reflex and he can take more than most people could. Very talented mouth, that one has.

Harry felt the head of his cock hit the back of Niall's throat and it was as if his lungs closed up and he could barely breathe. Niall hummed around him, shooting vibrations to every nerve in his body. His eyes squeezed shut, slurring, "God, Niall."

The flat of a fingertip rubbed smoothly against his waiting hole. A centimeter poked through, only to circle the rim, without intention of pushing in. Niall gently pulled his mouth off of Harry, sucking hard as he did. He squeezed the shaft once before bringing Harry's cock to his mouth again, still steadily toying with Harry's arsehole.

Harry battled between just lying there and feeling Niall with his eyes closed, and forcing himself up to watch Niall. No sooner was he lifting himself with his elbows, because he needed to see. And he needed to hear. Fuck, he needed to taste. He needed all his senses to take in everything that Niall is and everything that Niall was doing to him. This was all going into his memory, to be pulled out for times when he was longing for the only one who could ever really satisfy the craving in his loins and the craving of his heart.

Niall hummed around Harry's length again before pulling up, cheeks hollowed to maximum suction, the same time that a slick finger dipped roughly into his hole up to the knuckle. "Niall!" Harry keened, letting his head fall back to the pillow.

Niall was panting. "So tight, baby. Yer so fucking tight."

Harry hummed, eyes squeezed shut, adjusting to the feeling. He hasn't had anything in there in a long while that it almost felt new. He felt Niall's hand leave his cock, never stopping the other one from moving in and out of him.

"Gahd, ya look so good," Niall said before pushing another finger in him.

A _mmph!_  was the only sound Harry let escape as he gritted his teeth together. It really wasn't much but Harry was already so sensitive, a byproduct of him missing Niall as much as he did and finally getting to be with him.

He felt the fingers in him part slightly, only to relax again. Niall did several push and pull of his fingers in Harry's hole before scissoring them again. Harry sighed as he got used to the sensation, relaxing into the feel of it. But then he felt the tip of Niall's tongue on the rim, at the same time the blonde curled his fingers inside Harry, and he almost jumped up, crying the other boy's name.

Wanton sounds of pleasure flowed unfiltered through Harry's mouth as Niall continued rimming him and massaging his prostate through his curled up fingers. Tears began to trickle from the corners of his eyes  from the overwhelming sensation of Niall doing all these things to him. He wanted to scream for Niall to take him, fill him with his cock and fuck him senseless, but it would be selfish to do so when he knew that Niall had just gotten off and is probably too sensitive to even get hard again.

A third finger was unmistakable, with Niall's tongue still forcing itself in him. It all felt so good he wanted it to last forever. But his cock was laying on his belly--aching, neglected and leaking of precum. "N-Niall, I..." his voice quivering.

Niall looked up from between his legs. "Ya ready to come, love?"

"P-please..."

"Alright, baby," Niall said soothingly as he brought his free hand to Harry's length and began to pump to the rhythm of the push and pull of his other hand.

Harry sobbed openly, gripping at the sheets, arching his back, tensing his thighs, curling his toes. He was so so close.

"Come on, Harry. Come for me, baby. Show me how much ya missed me."

Harry screamed Niall's name the moment his orgasm took control of his body. An initial spurt of warm translucent white was caught by his chest, the rest dripped onto his stomach as Niall continued to milk him until he had nothing left to give.

His whole body went limp; every muscle relaxing, as he concentrated on his breathing, all hands leaving his body. He barely felt the bed shift as Niall climbed off and walked to the bathroom. He came back with a damp hand towel; and Harry watched with half-lidded eyes as Niall quietly cleaned the mess on his bare skin.

The towel was discarded somewhere nearby, Harry figured, because Niall didn't leave the bed again. Niall went to lay beside Harry, wrapping an arm around his waist, pulling him close so that his back was against Niall's chest.

Niall licked his earlobe. "You are so damn beautiful when you come like that."

Harry smiled lazily. He's been called beautiful dozens of times, _pretty_ even, but none had such an effect as when it came from Niall. He ought to be scared, really, at how he's far gone for this boy. Especially considering that they're just mates. Best mates. But still, just mates. But Harry couldn't even think about that when Niall was warmly pressed against him, holding him close and whispering in his ear. He'll be rational later. Right now, he's in heaven.

Harry dozed off almost instantly after that. He woke up again to a darker room, no trace of the sun outside. He was on his stomach, being pushed against the mattress, Niall's cock pounding in and out of him. He felt perfect.


	7. 6. Niall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at updating. Sorry.

Niall woke up to a mop of curls tickling his chin, a warm body pressed against his, large hand clutching his hip. He smiled lazily as the events of the night came flooding back to him. God, he missed Harry--pliant, eager, uninhibited Harry.

He always enjoyed having sex with him because Harry wasn't ashamed to beg and cry and let Niall have his way with him. He was almost certain Harry wasn't like that to others. Harry's a predator. When he finds someone he wants, he goes for that person and takes charge. Even when he's with partners older than him, Harry was still in control. Sure, he'd make them think that he was doing what they want, but in the end, it was Harry who dictated when they could come. Their orgasm was dependent on Harry's approval.

Of course Niall knew all this. Their friendship is so unique, he doesn't believe anything like it existed anywhere else in the world. They not only sleep together, but they recount sex escapades in detail to each other. They ask each other for suggestions and comments about the hows and whats and wheres and whens and whos of fucking. There is no shame or embarrassment between them when it comes to carnal knowledge and their bodies.

One time, when Niall got hit by a football right smack in the nutters, he immediately called Harry when he got home to "help him check his balls". Harry literally went down on him to inspect his balls--flashlight  in hand. And then he sucked Niall off; celebratory blowjob he said, because his testicles didn't look purpled with bruises.

Niall lifted his free arm to stroke the curly head. When Harry didn't stir, Niall figured that he was still asleep. And really, he should be. Between the jetlag and the incessant fucking he got from Niall, he deserves to sleep off the rest of the day. But Niall didn't have that luxury. It was a weekday and he had appointments to keep.

He slid off Harry, careful not to shuffle him and wake him up, and proceeded to take a shower. When he exited the bathroom, Harry was still snoring on the bed. Niall checked his mobile and smiled. He got a text from Zayn.

_**Still on for lunch?** _

_**Just woke up, but I'll drop by your ofice at noon ye?**_ He hit _send_ and dropped the phone on the open duffel bag, as he pulled out a pair of boxers, denim trousers and a clean white shirt.

He was buttoning his jeans when Harry groaned and gently moved about on the bed, undoubtedly realizing he was alone in it. "Mornin'," Niall said gently.

Harry eyed him frowning. "Where you goin'?"

"Got a lunch meeting today for the charity. And before ye gimme tha' pout, I can't cancel tha'. 's with the sponsor. We can't be disrespecting them ya know." And really, he wasn't lying. He and Zayn actually have some business to discuss over lunch.

Harry pouted at him anyway. "It's my first day here and you leave me."

Niall rolled his eyes, but not annoyingly. He rather found Harry cute like that; almost like a child. "It's yer second day. And 'm coming back before dinner, so don't go an' be all dramatic on me."

Harry huffed and pulled the duvet over his head. Niall clucked his tongue and climbed on the bed, straddling the younger boy's waist above the covers. He pulled the fabric down easily--it was obvious that Harry wasn't really being petulant, just wanted some attention like always. "Don't be like tha'," Niall reprimanded.

"Just want to spend time with you." His voice low and small and muffled by the fabric still covering his mouth.

Niall smirked and kissed Harry on the forehead, murmuring against his skin, "Missed you too." He pulled back enough to meet green eyes, resting on one elbow at the side of Harry's head and the fingers of his free hand clawing through the messy curls. "Be back for dinner, promise."

Harry nodded.

"It's almost eleven. Ye oughta get ready for lunch yerself. Ya know where t'go?"

Harry nodded again, and Niall mirrored that nod, adding, "'kay, good." He climbed out of the bed and went to the bathroom to fix his hair. As he busied himself in front of the mirror by the sink, he heard shuffling coming from the bedroom and not long after, he saw from his peripheral that Harry was at the door. He didn't need to look to know that the boy was stark naked. That was normal.

What he wasn't ready for  was when Harry came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his already-hard cock against Niall's jean-clad arse. "Jesus, Haz," he gasped, eyes wide, staring through the mirror at the person trying to hide behind him.

Harry replied with wet kisses on his nape and gentle fingers lightly traveling up and down his shirtless torso, making him shudder and moan. _Shit!_

"H-Harry, I--" Whatever that's supposed to come after that was lost in obscurity when his nipples were being rolled between thumbs and forefingers before being pulled and released. Niall's breathing became heavier and he felt the thing in his pants come to life.

Niall watched wordlessly as Harry tilted his head to lick and nibble at his earlobe. The hands on his chest and stomach traveled lower until they were unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. The trousers slid off his hips easily and it hung awkwardly at his knees--the stiffness of the newly-pressed pair of denims refrained it from pooling around his ankles.

Harry cupped his groin unapologetically and groped and massaged him through the thin fabric of his boxers. "S-shit, Harry," he groaned, his eyes fluttering close. He was achingly hard in no time.

"You're quite stiff here, Nialler," Harry teased on his ear.

"Fuck you," he breathed in between heavy panting. "Tha's yer fault."

"'M sorry. Lemme fix it, alright?"

Well, it's not like Niall would say no, would he? So, he got a morning blowjob from his best mate before he could leave the condo. Needless to say, he was a little late in picking up Zayn from his office.

\---

"You're staring again," Zayn said, putting down the glass of diet soda back on the table.

"Can ya blame me?" Niall replied, one corner of his mouth curved upward.

Zayn chuckled and dipped his head. Niall loves this about Zayn, when he's blushing and embarrassed at the flattery afforded to him. It's easy though. All he ever says are truths anyway. It's true that Zayn's eyes sparkle when he smiles. It's true that Zayn's profile is simply jaw-dropping when he tilts his head up and a little to the side. It's true that his laugh is like music to the ears.

"You need to stop doing that in public. Else, I can't bring you anywhere."

A mock expression of hurt flitted across Niall's face. He grabbed the part of his chest where his heart is supposed to be and exclaimed, "you're ashamed of me?"

Zayn nodded, a smirk plastered on his lips. "Oh, very much so."

Niall grinned. "Guess we should take this somewhere private, then."

This man in front of Niall with the dark quiff in a dark suit, looking every bit like a prince, snorted. He snorted so loud that the two women on the table closest to theirs actually turned for a moment to look at them. Zayn had the decency to look embarrassed and apologized. Niall threw his head back in silent laughter once the women had returned to their own bubble.

"Shut up!" Zayn hissed, but he was laughing a bit himself.

It's been twelve days since he met Zayn; eleven since they first slept together and he left his condo without even a post-it saying goodbye; ten since he realized that he couldn't get Zayn out of his mind and he felt like shit running off like he did; nine since he mustered up the courage to go back and resolved to try and see if there could be something more with Zayn. Since then, he didn't let a day pass without seeing Zayn.

Niall could be in over his head, he knew. The man was out of his league. Way, way out of his league. In football parlance, Zayn was in the Premier League and Niall was kicking ball in one of the many amateur county leagues across England. In fact, this was the exact reason he slipped away unnoticed  after arguably one of the best nights of his life.

When Niall woke up in Zayn's bed, Zayn was on his stomach with his face turned to Niall. And, he remembered thinking, _god you're beautiful. I want you to be mine._

But then a part of him screamed how utterly wrong all of it was. Zayn was... And he was... Him and Zayn doesn't make sense; would never make sense. They live such different lives; they're such different people. It was ridiculous that Niall would even dare to think that there could be more between them. Delusional, even.

Niall had let that part of him win that morning; so despite the awful throbbing in his skull, he removed his hand from Zayn, pulled himself quietly out of the bed, dressed as quickly as he could and left the condo, making sure that as much of his existence had been erased from that place.

When he got back to the much simpler dwelling he shared with people of his kind, he went straight to his room and flopped on his sorry excuse of a bed. The house was empty with just him there, and so was his heart.

It's so stupid, he'd thought. Zayn shouldn't mean anything to him. Zayn's deep amber eyes shouldn't mean anything to him. Zayn's smile shouldn't mean anything to him. His voice, his touch, his breathing--none of these should mean anything to Niall. It shouldn't. It doesn't, he said.

It took a proper amount of sleep for Niall to remember the kind of person he was. Determined. Reckless in all the right ways. A kid who was never afraid to take chances.

The only thing holding him back really was Zayn's status in society. But he figured, why should it? Niall can already tell that Zayn's not one of those snobs who think they're better than the rest of the world. He was a good guy, Niall believed. He reminded him of Harry, and the thought actually made him smile.

Niall and Harry are nothing alike, but he loves that curly-haired brat with all his heart. Even though Harry was generally a selfish prick, he's always been generous and caring towards Niall. Funny enough, despite Harry's tendency to get jealous sometimes, Niall had a feeling Harry would actually like Zayn. That'd be cool if he did; it'd be easier for Niall.

Anyway, he thinks things are going well. Zayn doesn't seem to mind that he's popping up everyday at any time that is convenient for the both of them--lunch, afternoon tea, dinner; there was even that one time when Niall rushed off early to have breakfast with Zayn because it was the only free time Zayn had. 

At first, Niall would insist on paying for the both of them. But then Zayn reasoned, "one, I've got more money than you. Two, I'm not a girl, you know?" And well, yeah, those are solid arguments. So, they entered into a compromise where they would take turns paying for meals. It was a good deal.

The sex was amazing, as well.

Niall's never bottomed before. Zayn was his first. He never actually thought he would. He'd been fingered before, sure, but no dick's been stuck in there. Nobody's really asked him if they could fuck him. He always did the fucking, he never got fucked. But when Zayn asked him on their first night together--and he remembered all the events of that night--he just couldn't say no. Not so much because he was scared of Zayn or anything. It's just that he felt like he really actually wanted Zayn to just take him.

In some weird clairvoyant way, he knew Zayn would take care of him. Make him feel good. And, he was right. He didn't think it was something that he'd like. But, boy, it was amazing. And with that, he understood why Harry liked it so much when Niall fucked him.

His mobile vibrated violently in his pocket in the middle of his story about the kids helping him pull a prank on Roy. He paused to fish it out and peek at the screen. It was from Harry. There were already six messages. 

Niall looked back at Zayn. "Gimme just a minute, ye?"

He nodded. "'course."

Niall slid the lock to open and were met with:

Harry: What time are you coming back?  
Harry: Isn't the meeting done yet?  
Harry: I'm bored  
Harry: NIALL !!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Harry: Why is it so hot outside?!  
Harry: You've forgotten about me, haven't you

Just before he could reply, another message came in.

Harry: :(

Niall didn't notice his eyebrows pulling in as he read one message after the other. _Great. Harry's having his clingy spell again._ This has always been a constant problem with Harry. He gets this way when he's sick or upset. Niall guessed that he's a mix of those two things right now, being new in a different country.

"Everything alright?"

Niall looked up at Zayn and nodded. "Yeh. All's right."

"Do you need to go? It's okay if you have to," Zayn said, although his face showed a hint of disappointment; which, to be perfectly honest, Niall sees every time they had to part and it always made him want to fist pump because he's doing that to Zayn.

Niall shook his head. "'s nothing."

"Are you--" Zayn was interrupted when Niall's phone buzzed again and Niall bowed his head to read the message. "Ni, it looks like that could be an emergency. Really, it's fine if you need to--"

But Niall cut him off. "No. I promise. Everything's fine." He turned his mobile off and shoved it back in his pocket. Zayn just watched him quietly as he did. "D-do you... D'ya need ta be back in the office right after?"

Zayn grinned. "No, I... I have time."

Niall grinned back as he brought the huge chunk of steak to his mouth and said, "good."

\---

"Zayn," he drawled. 

Niall was laid on his chest, hugging tightly a pillow, while Zayn gripped at his arse cheeks, keeping them separated as the tip of his tongue circled the rim of Niall's hole. In the four times they've fucked since that first night, this is only the second time Zayn's used his mouth to prepare Niall. Of course, lube will still make an appearance later on, but the feeling of Zayn's tongue on his rim was incredible.

"Z-zayn, s-stop. Don't wanna c-come yet." 

The first time it happened, Niall came without being touched. The man with amber eyes hadn't stopped there though. He wouldn't stop until he's come as well. And they both knew that meant getting inside Niall and fucking him hard. So Zayn went ahead and slipped his fingers in Niall to give him a proper stretch before sinking himself in the blonde. Niall got hard again, of course--he just couldn't help it when it comes to Zayn. And when Zayn came, it just took a couple of tugs before Niall was shooting jizz for a second time. He was so exhausted, he fell immediately into deep slumber.

But he can't pass out today. He promised to meet Harry for dinner.

"N-need you in me. C'mon, Z."

Zayn climbed up, leaving a trail of kisses on Niall's spine. "So eager," he whispered in Niall's ear and sucked on the shell. "Tell me what you want, babe."

_Jesus, not again._

"Zayn," he whined in protest.

Niall could feel the smirk on Zayn's face as he nuzzled his nose against the back of his ear. "Say it."

He groaned. He's not exactly a prude, but it's just one of the things he finds really, really embarrassing. He doesn't even know why. After all, he teases Zayn with similar words when they're together in a public place, whispering them to him at the most unexpected of times just so he can see this beautiful rich boy blush. Somehow, it just feels different when he says the words in bed.

Zayn sensed his hesitation, as always. As a means of encouragement, he slipped the shaft of his raging hard penis between Niall's crack, which was still wet from when he ate him out, and moved slowly but firmly, sliding easily at the slickness he'd created. Up and down. up and down. Niall shuddered and whimpered at the sensation. He wanted Zayn so, so bad.

"P-please, j-just..."

"Just what, Niall? You have to tell me, babe."

Truth is, Zayn was already hurting--aching to have his cock enveloped in Niall's warmth. But he wasn't going to do it unless Niall said the words.

"G-god," the Irish slurred. He buried his face on the pillow and muffled something.

"Wha' was 'at?"

Niall growled as he lifted his head and practically screamed, "Fuck me, Zayn!"

"Anything for you, babes," he replied cheekily before ripping open the foil of the condom that's been sitting on the bed for the longest time and putting it on himself. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto himself and immediately poked the head on the slick opening.

Niall whimpered as he felt the stretch that Zayn's cock slipping inside him is causing. His jaw dropped as a long _ahhhh_ escaped his lips to match the steady way Zayn continued to push deeper, smoothly and carefully. Niall's body shook as a wave of electricity shot through every nerve of his being, until he felt Zayn's hips against his bum.

"You're so perfect, Ni," Zayn murmured in his ear.

"F-fuck me, Zayn." It came out as a whisper. Faint and barely audible. But it was heard by the person that mattered, and then Zayn was thrusting in and out of him. Slow on the first two movements, but then it got harder and faster and Niall was losing his mind with the feel of it.

He was reduced to a whimpering, whining, and groaning mess until he felt the familiar knot on his belly. With the friction his cock got from the mattress and the incessant pounding his arse got from Zayn, Niall came hard and writhing, screaming Oh God! against the pillow he had never let go.

And with how hard Niall clenched, Zayn came immediately after, dropping his weight on the body of flushed skin. "Hmm. I want you on your back next time."

Niall giggled. He ought to roll his eyes at himself if he wasn't in such fucking bliss. Giggled? When'd he ever giggle? He's not a girl! But Zayn makes him do things he'd normally wouldn't do. He doesn't understand it and that scares him. It's just that the overall pleasure he feels--physically and emotionally--far outweighs that fear, that it's never enough for him to run in the other direction.

They cuddled on the bed while they let the afterglow fade. Zayn has his back against the headboard, an arm around Niall's waist, while the Irish leant back against his chest, absently tracing his fingers on the darker man's forearm.

"Hey," Zayn hummed, gently grabbing Niall's attention. "D'you wanna spend the night?"

"Yeh."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm."

Zayn's other arm enveloped him into a tight embrace. "Cool. You can stay here. I just need to sort a few  things in the office for a couple of hours then we can go out to dinner or just have some food sent up. Anything you want."

_Ah shit. Dinner. Harry._

Niall shuffled to face Zayn. "Just remembered that I gotta be somewhere for dinner."

"Oh, okay." It wasn't though, Niall saw. The other was obviously disappointed. 

"Can I still spend the night though?" Niall was quick to follow. This is the first time Zayn's actually asked him to sleep over, and he really did want to stay. He wasn't sure how he'd handle Harry, but he'd figure it out later. Besides, he only promised his best mate dinner, not another sleep over.

"Really?"

"If you still want me to."

Zayn stroked his cheek gently with the back of his hand. "'Course, you dolt. I asked first, didn't I?"

He grinned and bent to fit his lips with Zayn's.

\---

After a quick shower, Niall was on the bus back to Harry's apartment. He pulled out his mobile for the first time since he switched it off during lunch, and was bombarded with text messages from Harry (& one from Naomi asking him if he was coming home that day).

_**On my way back**_ , he tapped quickly and sent it to his rather annoyingly impatient mate. He never got a reply.

When Niall buzzed Harry's door, he couldn't hear any shuffling from the other side. After 30 seconds of waiting, he tried again, pressing the button a little longer. Still nothing. He was just about to turn and head back to the elevator, his mobile already in hand to make a call, when he heard a loud thud from inside. He decided to wait, and sure enough, the door flew wide open.

"Fell asleep," Harry said panting slightly, leaning against the side of the door.

Niall grabbed him by the waist with both hands and pushed him inside. "Get in before someone sees ya," he said, chuckling. He quickly closed the door before returning to the boy with messy curls and asked, "Why are you just in yer pants?"

Harry shrugged. "It's so hot outside."

"Yer flat's fully airconditioned!"

Harry stared at him blankly for a moment before replying with another shrug.

"Well, put some proper clothes on. Let's go ta the mall."

Harry frowned. "But it's hot."

"It's airconditioned there too."

"But we have to go outside before we could--"

"The mall's literally across the street, Harry."

"But--"

"Put yer clothes on."

Harry pouted. "Don't wanna."

Niall placed his hands on his own hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Let's just stay here, Nialler." Harry started as he inched closer. "We can order food like we did last night and--"

"No, Haz. Ya need to get out." 

The thing was, Niall knew Harry, and if he let Harry have his way he wouldn't be able to even walk to the elevator, let alone commute back to Zayn's. If he wasn't pissed tired after whatever activities the younger had in mind, Harry's koala-like grip will keep him in bed long enough for him to lose the battle against sweet traitorous sleep.

It took a while to convince--nay, coerce--Harry into leaving the flat. No matter. The point is, Harry left the flat. Niall toured him a bit in one of the most famous shopping malls in the country before they ended up in a restaurant for dinner. And when Harry said he can't wait to have dessert, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking seductively at Niall, the blonde took him to this foodchain and fed him a popular local frozen dessert called _halo-halo_ (hah-loh-hah-loh).

Niall brought Harry to one of the pubs in the strip afterwards for a pint. They got into a conversation with the owner of the pub, who was actually of Indian descent but grew up and lived all his life in Manchester, which probably explains why the pub had a very authentic English pub feel to it. The man's name was Preston and he was nice enough to give both boys another pint of beer and ultimately waived their tab when Niall said that they had to go. Both boys thanked Preston as they left the pub, with the latter telling them to come by again soon.

Harry was ecstatic to finally be making their way back to the condo. He was mildly drunk and being obnoxious and playful--jumping on Niall's back at least twice, as if he wasn't bigger and taller than the Irish. It's fine though; Niall can take him. He may look small, but he's lean and quite strong. Once inside Harry's unit, he grabbed Niall by the waist and kissed him gently, but with obvious hunger and purpose. Niall kissed back. Why wouldn't he?

"I missed you," Harry whispered against Niall's lips.

"I miss you too, Haz." But then Niall was stepping back and pulling away from Harry's hold. "I'll see ya on Saturday maybe? In the afternoon. The kids have training in the mornin', an' we usually all go have lunch together afterwards. So."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. Niall was already on his way to the bedroom to get his bag, so Harry followed. "What are you...? Are you leaving?"

Niall looked at him in between stuffing his things in the bag. "Yeh, man."

"But, Niall."

The whining tone in the two words Harry spoke made Niall stop his shuffling and turn to his friend. Harry was standing a couple of feet away, just staring at his open bag, pouting and with furrowed eyebrows. "I got work here, y'know," he explained carefully.

Harry didn't move; didn't even look at him.

He sighed. "Now, c'mon, Haz. D-don't be like tha'. I can't just--"

But he was cut off by Harry walking silently towards the bathroom. He closed the bathroom door gently, still not bothering to even spare Niall a glance, and locked it.

This is what Harry does when he's upset. He locks himself in the bathroom. Sometimes Niall would knock on the door, gently asking him to open it so they could talk; and if Harry won't budge, he'd just stay and wait. But sometimes Niall would just leave. Tonight, Niall had somewhere he'd rather be, and quite frankly he's already itching to just bolt out of there.

Except he's not a complete arse. He knows Harry's gone through much in the last couple of weeks after the Rippage scandal and he didn't have anyone in the country to hang out with but him. He likes Zayn so much that it hurts sometimes, but Harry is still his best mate, and he knows how lucky he is to have Harry call him that too.

Niall sat on the edge of the bed, defeated. He pulled out his mobile and shot Zayn a text message.

_**Can't make it tonight. Something came up. I'll see ya tomorrow for lunch?** _

A minute later, Zayn was calling his mobile. He walked out of the room and took the call, cupping his hand over the receiver.

"Hey."

"Are you okay?" Zayn asked. The worry in his tone was evident.

"Yeh, yeh. 'M fine. Just... I just have something to deal with right now and I can't leave."

"Oh. Okay. Anything I can do to help or...?"

"No, babe. Thanks. It's alright. I'm just... I really wanted ta be there ya know?"

"Yeah?" 

And Niall's heavy heart lifted a little bit as he sensed Zayn beaming at the other end of the line. Possibly smiling, even. "Yeh. So much. If I could, like, fix this with a snap of a finger, ya know, just so I could get there righ' now, I would."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

"No, I'm sorry. Yer not mad at me, righ?"

"Nah," Zayn answered, quiet but firm. "Nah. 'Course not. I was... I was just kinda... you know, looking forward to it."

Niall winced. God, he just wanted to run and be with Zayn.

"But," Zayn continued, "it's fine. I understand."

Niall sighed. "'M really sorry. But I'll see you tomorrow, yeh? yer still good for lunch?"

"Sure. Your turn to pay, I reckon."

Niall chuckled. "Oh yeah. Get ready from some fast food goodness!"

Zayn laughed. "Haven't had some Jollibee in awhile. I think we should do that."

"A bucket of Chicken Joy?"

"And like a basket of Peach Mango Pies."

Niall was grinning widely now and he was pretty sure that Zayn was, too. "They should have that. Like literally, a basket o' those pocket pies."

"If you feel so strongly about it, I guess we can write them a letter."

He almost bellowed a laughter if he didn't remember that Harry was sulking two doors down, so he ended up choking on his own laugh instead. "Let's have your secretary write it. She's good with words."

"Oh sure." And he could practically feel Zayn rollng his eyes. "Minerva would looooove that. I mean, it's not like she's doing anything important around here."

Niall laughed softly. "Bet she'd do it though. She likes me."

Zayn scoffed. "Either you're blind or just plain stupid. She's never even smiled at you! What made you even think that?"

"I saw her," he said with an air of confidence. "Today, she looked at me before letting me into yer office and I swear the corners of her lips were turned up. She likes me, man."

And that's all it took for Zayn to laugh heartily at the other end of the line. Niall pressed his phone tighter against his ear, taking in as much of the sound as he could. He's absolutely smitten when Zayn bowls over laughing; and to know that he caused that just gets his stomach flipping like he doesn't even understand. He wished again that he was right there with him in that room so he can actually see it. Because when Zayn laughs--like really laughs--his eyes glisten and the bridge of his nose scrunches. It's the fucking cutest thing.

But Niall had to get over that longing. Right now, he's on best mate duties. After apologizing again and telling Zayn that's they'll see each other tomorrow, they finally ended the phonecall. He calmly walked towards the bathroom door to start knocking and cooing for Harry to come out.

\---

The next day, Niall wasn't able to meet Zayn for lunch. As well as the day after that.

\---

To: njhfootball@gmail.com  
From: surferlouis91@yahoo.com  
Subject: I'm lame I should die

Hey Ni,

Dude, you gotta give me more details on your new lover. Haha! I can't believe I just used that word. It sounds weird. Lover. Lovah. Luvverrr.

Anyway, I think I might be into this guy too. He's really nice and cute and holy shit his body is smoking! Like, bro, when I get the chance I will send you a pic! But I don't know if he's into me cos he's not like making a move or anything. I mean, shit man! If he just gives me like a little clue that he's into me, like I don't know, rub my shoulders or whatever, I'd pounce on him, man!

He's a backpacker of sorts. Frankly, I don't think he knows shit about what he's doing, and that kinda worries me a little cos he might get in trouble and whatnot, but I can't just tell him to not go to his next stop. He's leaving tomorrow and. I don't know.

He's just really hot. But I don't think he's into one night stands and all that. It's too bad, is all.

Whatever. Just tell me more stuff about this new man of yours.

And where the fuck have all the birds gone?! Why are we both talking about boys? Haha!

I miss you bro.

-L


End file.
